


Nothing Good Was Ever Easy

by enigmaticblue



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-25
Updated: 2012-09-25
Packaged: 2017-11-15 00:16:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/521020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce Banner has been running for a long, long time. Learning how to stay in one place is just as much of a process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Good Was Ever Easy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the hc_bingo prompt "ostracized from society." The title is from the song "Beloved Freak," by Garbage.

**1.**

 

Bruce stays in New York for three days, and he only sticks around that long because he’s beyond exhausted after the battle. It turns out that transforming twice in the same day, falling 30,000 feet, and taking on an alien army really takes it out of a guy.

 

Since Tony offers him a place to stay, and reiterates his desire for Bruce to see the labs, Bruce takes him up on it. He’s got very little money, and he’s going to have to pay for a flight to—somewhere. Probably not India again, but he isn’t sure where he’ll go, especially now that he knows SHIELD will be tracking him.

 

If he’s honest with himself, he might have stayed longer, because Tony had asked, but the labs had sustained a lot of damage and needed to be rebuilt, and Tony’s busy with Pepper.

 

(After the battle, after shawarma, Tony had brought Bruce back to the tower, and Pepper had been waiting in the main room, looking a little dazed as she surveyed the damage. She’d flung herself at Tony, and he’d held her tightly while Bruce hung back and tried not to make his presence too obvious.

 

Tony had kissed her, long and deep, and then had whispered something in her ear. He turned them both, an arm around Pepper’s shoulders, and waved at Bruce. “Pepper, this is Bruce,” he’d explained as though that meant something.

 

And Pepper had smiled and taken his hand and said, “It’s so good to meet you, Dr. Banner.”

 

Then she and Tony had shared a look that Bruce recognized but didn’t understand, because it was a secret look that spoke of a long conversation held outside of anyone’s hearing.

 

“You should stay,” Tony said at that point, and Pepper had chimed in, “As long as you want,” and Bruce had thought about it. He really had.

 

For the first time in a long time, he’d wanted to stay somewhere, and it’s no one’s fault it hadn’t worked out.)

 

But three days have passed, along with the worst of his exhaustion, and Bruce feels like an interloper as Tony and Pepper oversee the renovations. Maybe if he had a distraction, or work to do, he’d feel differently, but the labs aren’t open, and now that he’s caught up on sleep, Bruce is restless.

 

Normally, Bruce would just sneak out and catch the next flight, but he owes Tony a goodbye at least, and he finds the man in his partially reconstructed great room, fiddling with the model of the tower.

 

Bruce clears his throat, and Tony looks up with a welcoming smile. “Bruce! Just the man I wanted to see.”

 

“I, uh, wanted to talk to you, too, actually,” Bruce says.

 

The smile drops from Tony’s face. “You first.”

 

“I think I’m going to take off,” Bruce says, forcing the words out, strangely reluctant to leave now that the time is upon him.

 

Tony sees far more than most people give him credit for, and he nods slowly. Bruce expects him to give the same half-sincere speech that most people do upon the departure of a guest who’s no longer completely welcome—thanks for staying, nice to see you, stay in touch.

 

He should know by now that Tony rarely does what’s expected.

 

“You’re not leaving right now, are you?” Tony asks, as though he knows very well that Bruce had planned on doing just that.

 

Suddenly, Bruce remembers— _red and gold, tumbling from the bright blue sky, the roar of a great beast_ —and he has no idea if it’s a real memory or if he’s heard the story so often that his brain automatically conjures up the image.

 

“Uh, no?” Bruce offers hesitantly.

 

Tony’s smile returns. “Great. That will give us a little more time to finish making arrangements.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “Tony, you don’t have to do that.”

 

“That’s why I’m doing it,” Tony replies. “I rarely do anything I _have_ to do. Give me two days, Bruce.”

 

His request is serious, and Bruce owes Tony enough that he’s not going to turn him down. “I can do two days,” he says, even though his skin is beginning to feel too tight.

 

“Great!” Tony says brightly. “Now, get over here. I want to show you something.”

 

Bruce approaches the model. “What’s up?”

 

Tony begins to explain what the next step is in the arc reactor technology—first Manhattan, then the rest of the world—and he stops mid-explanation to ask, “You’re coming back, though, right?”

 

“Huh?” Bruce asks intelligently.

 

“You’re coming back,” Tony says. “To see the labs. You said you would.”

 

Bruce’s stomach does a slow flip, and he resolutely pushes the feeling back down. He doesn’t have friends, he doesn’t have connections, and he doesn’t have family.

 

Tony’s threatening to become at least one of the above.

 

“I still owe you for saving my life,” Tony adds.

 

Bruce looks down at the floor. “No, you don’t.”

 

“Yes, I do.” Tony pokes Bruce in the side. “And I can keep this up all day.”

 

The finger is probably an improvement over a prod, but it still calls a smile to Bruce’s face. “Fine. Let me know when you finish remodeling. I’m sure you’ll know how to reach me.”

 

“That’s the thing about my arrangements,” Tony says. “I can make it so that if you disappear, the whole world knows about it.”

 

“I’m not sure that’s the right way to go,” Bruce hedges.

 

Tony raises an eyebrow. “You notice that the U.S. government hasn’t made a serious attempt to kidnap me.”

 

“Yeah, but you’re _you_ ,” Bruce counters.

 

Tony pats him on the shoulder. “And when I’m done, they won’t be able to touch you either. Trust me.”

 

Oddly enough, Bruce does. Besides, he can always go off the grid again if necessary.

 

“Okay,” he says simply. “Now, what did you want me to look at again?”

 

~~~~~

 

Bruce gives Tony the two days, and Tony spends most of the time with Bruce. Pepper is doing whatever it is that’s required of the CEO of Stark Industries, and Tony wants Bruce’s help dealing with some of the small problems of the arc reactor. It’s clean energy, but there’s discharge from the device that, while not precisely dangerous, is still a bit troublesome.

 

So far, it hasn’t been a problem, but if Tony wants to power entire cities, they’re going to need to collect it, or recycle it, or something.

 

Bruce isn’t sure whether Tony’s deliberately trying to make it harder for Bruce to leave or not, but he’s succeeded. Right now, Bruce’s desire to stay and his desire to go are about equal.

 

Still, he knows Pepper will return soon, and Bruce has given Tony the two days he’d asked for. He just needs some time to get his head straight. His feelings surrounding Tony are complicated at best, and a little space will help him figure things out.

 

Bruce shows up in Tony’s office at the appointed time with an empty duffel bag—he hadn’t felt right taking the clothes that had been provided—and is surprised to see Pepper there as well, leaning close to Tony as they study a sheaf of papers on the desk.

 

“Bruce!” she exclaims. “Good. You’re right on time.”

 

Bruce is caught off guard. “I usually am,” he admits.

 

“Of course you are,” she agrees with a reproving look at Tony. “Maybe you should stick around. You might be a good influence.”

 

“I doubt that,” he mutters.

 

Tony grins at him. “A bad influence is even better. It’s a good thing you’re coming back.”

 

“Tony could use a _good_ influence,” Pepper counters. “So, if I could just get you to sign some documents, you can be on your way.”

 

“Documents?” Bruce parrots dumbly, not quite keeping up.

 

“We’ve set up a 501(c)(3),” Pepper replies. “For a medical clinic where you were operating in India. There seems to be considerable need, and you’ll be compensated.”

 

Bruce blinks. “Yeah, there is. There was.”

 

“Great!” Pepper says brightly. “So, good publicity, we get a nice tax write-off, and you get the supplies you need to run a real clinic.”

 

“And, when you come back, we’ll send a replacement doctor,” Tony says triumphantly.

 

Bruce glances from Tony to Pepper and back again. “I can’t take this.”

 

“Oh, this isn’t charity, at least not for you,” Pepper insists. “Stark Industries is expanding into India, and we’d like to demonstrate our good will. When you return to the States, we’ll hire someone local, and Tony will get his lab partner back. Trust me, that’s a very good deal for me as well.”

 

Bruce chuckles, the sound rusty in his own ears. “I—thanks. You really don’t have to do this.”

 

“And if I _had_ to, I wouldn’t _want_ to,” Tony points out. “As I already said. So, sign the papers so we can get you on your flight.”

 

Bruce frowns. “My flight leaves in a couple of hours,” he replies. “I’m not sure there’s time to—”

 

“Oh, you’re not flying commercial,” Tony interrupts. “I’ve arranged things.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “You really didn’t—” He stops, knowing better than to repeat himself again. He should know better than to try to talk Tony out of anything. “Of course you did.”

 

Pepper exchanges an amused look with him and says, “I’ve marked where we need your signature.”

 

Bruce picks up a pen. “I’m not promising my kidney or anything, am I?” he jokes.

 

“Just your firstborn,” Pepper replies.

 

He laughs and thinks, _What the hell_? And then he signs.

 

“The plane is already loaded,” Pepper informs him. “Someone will meet you at the airport to unload and transport the supplies, and you’ll have a couple of people to help out by the time you arrive. The building is purchased, and should be stocked by then, too.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “This only took you two days?”

 

“Give me a little credit,” Tony says, sounding hurt. “I only needed one day. The second was all for me.”

 

“How stupid of me,” Bruce replies. “I apologize for doubting your organizational abilities.”

 

“Oh, that wasn’t him,” Pepper says. “That’s all me.”

 

“I should have known,” Bruce replies with a smile.

 

Pepper returns the smile, and presses her lips to Bruce’s cheek. “Be careful, and call if you need anything at all.”

 

Bruce flushes slightly. “Thanks.”

 

When she leaves, Tony pulls a Stark Phone out. “Jarvis will be able to track you with this, but no one else will.”

 

“You’re certain?”

 

“Think about who you’re talking to,” Tony says.

 

Bruce holds up his hands. “Sorry.”

 

“Hey, paranoia will keep you alive,” Tony replies, his expression suddenly growing serious. “You don’t have to come back, you know. Not if you don’t want to.”

 

“I don’t want to be in the way.”

 

“You won’t.”

 

Bruce nods. “Okay, then. If you’re sure.”

 

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”

 

“Then I’ll come back,” Bruce promises. “But I don’t know how long I’ll stay.”

 

The gleam in Tony’s eyes suggests that comment might have been a mistake, as it seems as though Tony is going to take that as a challenge. “I guess we’ll see when you get back,” he says a little gleefully. “But once you see the labs, you’re not going to want to leave.”

 

**2.**

 

Kolkata is just as Bruce has left it—hot and crowded, the streets packed. He’s met at the airport by a young man who introduces himself as Faraj. “When I was at school, the Americans called me Frank,” he says.

 

Bruce shakes his hand. “And which do you prefer?”

 

Faraj shrugs and smiles, his teeth flashing white. “Faraj, actually, thank you, Dr. Banner.” His voice carries a faint British accent, and his thick, dark hair is cut short, his smooth cheeks having no hint of stubble.

 

“It’s just Bruce,” he replies. “Thank you for meeting me.”

 

“I’m to be Miss Potts’ man on the ground,” Faraj replies, nearly vibrating with excitement. “It’s a great opportunity.”

 

Bruce smiles. “She seems to excel at those. Lead the way.”

 

The new clinic is located near where he’d been living just a couple of weeks before in one of the poorer areas of the city, but the building is one of the better ones in the area. When Faraj leads him inside, Bruce looks around the well-lit room with the curtained-off examining tables. The area is scrupulously clean, and he notes that the instruments are sealed inside sterile bags. There’s a water cooler in the corner with paper cups stacked next to it.

 

A desk and a filing cabinet sit in another corner, and there’s a young woman seated behind the desk. “Dr. Banner?” she calls.

 

“Yes, that’s me,” he replies, holding out his hand. “But it’s just Bruce.”

 

“I am Noor Desai.” She shakes his hand with a firm grip. “I’m your PA.”

 

Bruce blinks. “Ah. Great.” He’s fairly certain that she knows far more about doctoring than he does. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Desai.”

 

“We have a nurse starting tomorrow,” Noor says. “If she arrives before I do, her name is Amriti Seeta, and she was trained in the United States.”

 

Bruce nods. “Thanks.”

 

“I will show you upstairs,” she announces. “Thank you, Faraj.”

 

Bruce glances between them, sensing some sort of complicated rivalry between them. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Faraj,” he says as a peace offering. “Thanks for all your help.”

 

“It was my pleasure, Dr. Banner,” Faraj replies, scrupulously polite, and then nods at Noor.

 

Bruce watches him go. “Is there something I need to be aware of?”

 

Noor shakes her head. “No. Faraj and I had a difference of opinion as to who will run this clinic. Now that you’re here, the matter is settled.”

 

Bruce feels a rising sense of alarm. “Wait, Pepper did tell you I wasn’t a medical doctor, right? I’ve picked up a few things over the years, but I’m not—this isn’t really my area of expertise.”

 

Noor’s face softens. “I believe that’s why I’m here, Dr. Banner, but Miss Potts said you’d had some success.”

 

“Some,” Bruce admits. “But still…” He takes a deep breath. “I’ll be grateful for whatever help you can provide.”

 

“I’ve spoken to some of your patients,” Noor replies with a smile. “They all speak quite highly of you, although I got the sense that your grasp of Bengali is imperfect.”

 

Bruce smiles and looks down at the floor, poured and painted concrete that’s been scrubbed and waxed. The pale gray will show the dirt, but that’s probably a good thing. Bruce doesn’t care if he’s the one mopping; a clean room will only help them.

 

“I didn’t have enough time to learn,” he replies. “But I’d be happy to practice if you’ll help me.”

 

Noor nods, her smile pleasant. “I will be happy to help you, Doctor.”

 

Bruce thanks her sincerely and doesn’t try to insist that she call him by his first name again. If she were comfortable doing so, she wouldn’t insist on using his title, and Bruce respects her desire for a certain amount of formality.

 

The apartment above the clinic is minimalistic but clean, and in just as good of repair as the clinic. There’s a twin bed in the corner that’s been neatly made with a faded green blanket over the top. He catches sight of a miniscule bathroom in one corner and a wardrobe on one wall.

 

When he crosses the room to peek inside the wardrobe, he has to smile and shake his head. There are a few suits and half a dozen shirts hanging inside, as though Tony had known Bruce would leave the clothing Tony had purchased for him behind in New York.

 

“Is everything to your liking, Dr. Banner?” Noor asks. “We begin seeing patients early tomorrow. I can call to have dinner delivered if you like.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “No, thank you, Ms. Desai. I know the city well enough, and if I get hungry, I’ll get something to eat.”

 

“Very well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

Bruce isn’t hungry for the moment, and he lies down on the narrow bed and pulls out one of the few books he’s brought with him.

 

He hadn’t been entirely honest when he’d told Tony that all he’d brought was his toothbrush. He’d also had a couple of pairs of clean underwear, a clean shirt, and three battered volumes—the collected work of Keats, a volume of Neruda’s work, and a hardback collecting several of Dickens’ books. Bruce had picked it up for cheap at a book sale in Kolkata, and he hasn’t finished it yet.

 

Right now, though, Neruda seems more in tune with his mood, and he opens it at random. The first lines of the sonnet leap off the page, and he reads:

 

 _I do not love you except because I love you;_  
I go from loving to not loving you,  
From waiting to not waiting for you  
My heart moves from cold to fire.

 

He closes the book and sets it aside, staring up at the ceiling, which is cracked and peeling. In a way, it’s comforting to see the cracks, to see the imperfections. As comfortable as Stark Tower had been, Bruce had been unsettled by the newness of it all.

 

And yet, he misses it. Well, he misses Tony.

 

Who would have thought?

 

~~~~~

 

Amriti turns up early the next morning, and she mops the already-clean floor and won't let Bruce help. He's not sure whether it's because she thinks him above such a task or if she doesn't trust him to do it right. He's as formal with her as he was with Noor the previous day, and is grateful that her English is far better than his Bengali.

 

Although she also promises to help him with his language skills, she does so with a dubious expression that suggests she doesn't think much will come of it, and Bruce decides that he likes her quite a bit.

 

That first day, they have enough patients that they're all busy, even though Bruce feels out of his depth. Noor and Amriti have the same easy competence that Pepper does, and he wonders if she'd had a hand in the decision to hire them.

 

He also wonders if they’d been selected to make it abundantly clear that Bruce isn't really _needed_ in Kolkata. He's an extra pair of hands, and he's picked up quite a bit over the last few years, but he doesn't have their medical training.

 

Bruce remembers Tony's promise that they'd find a doctor to replace him when he went back to New York, and he knows he won't return. He probably won’t stay with Tony, but he won't come back here either, where he's not really needed after all.

 

And he wonders if Tony will keep doing this—keep building clinics and hiring people who put Bruce out of business, all to chase him back to New York. Or maybe it’s out of the rather misguided notion that Bruce belongs in the lab.

 

Bruce can’t exactly disagree, but he’s not sure that SHIELD or the Army will let him settle down in one place, no matter what Tony thinks.

 

Or maybe he’s imagining things, and this is just another problem for Tony to fix by throwing enough money at it.

 

He has no idea, but that’s not so surprising; he’s not sure he knows up from down these days.

 

The next day is much like the first. Bruce subtly lets Noor or Amriti take the lead where it seems appropriate, and they both warm up to him a bit. He’s exhausted by day’s end, enough so that he can’t do much more than wander upstairs and collapse on his thin mattress.

 

His phone beeps at him early the next morning, and Bruce gropes for it, fumbling for his glasses so he can read the text message.

 

The picture is of a half-eaten steak, alongside all the trimmings, and below it is, “Don’t you wish you were here?”

 

Bruce laughs and shakes his head, but he doesn’t reply.

 

The clinic isn’t open yet, and he’s alone, so he wanders out for chai and breakfast from a food vendor, since Tony’s picture has reminded him that he hadn’t eaten dinner the night before.

 

He watches the sun climb higher, the air already hot in a sky that feels more foreign than ever, because after so many years alone, on the run, Bruce had forgotten what it was to be with people who know who and what he is, and he misses it, even though he hadn’t had it for very long.

 

Bruce thinks he’s like a man who has been lost in the desert, where one sip of water can’t begin to quench his thirst.

 

Maybe he’s foolish to count on Tony’s friendship, or Pepper’s, but he wants to do it anyway—and that scares him.

 

Bruce’s phone rings, and he picks it up without thinking. “Hello?”

 

“Did you get my text?” Tony asks without preamble.

 

Bruce smiles to hear his voice. “Yeah, I got it. It reminded me to get breakfast.”

 

“You are eating, aren’t you?” Tony asks. “Because I can send a chef if that would help.”

 

“Don’t send a chef,” Bruce orders. “And I just ate.”

 

“But you’re eating regularly, right?” Tony presses.

 

Bruce makes a mental note to eat at least a couple of times a day. “Yes,” he lies. “Definitely.”

 

“You’re lying,” Tony replies suspiciously. “You’re lying, aren’t you?”

 

“I just ate, didn’t I?” Bruce asks. “Look, the clinic is opening soon. I have to go. What are you still doing up?”

 

“I don’t sleep, or hadn’t you heard?” Tony says. “But fine. Say goodbye.”

 

“Goodbye, Tony,” Bruce replies obediently, and hangs up.

 

But he’s probably more cheerful than he ought to be for the rest of the day.

 

~~~~~

 

They fall into a rhythm at the clinic, although there are a few bumps along the way, especially when Faraj starts coming around to see Noor, who treats him with a chilly courtesy.

 

Bruce can’t blame him; Noor is smart and beautiful, and she’s got good prospects. He remembers following Betty around with the same dogged attention Faraj is showing Noor.

 

Of course, Bruce doesn’t think Faraj stands a chance. He’s heard Noor and Amriti discuss leaving India, translating this position into one in the US. With an employer like Stark Industries, immigration is a real possibility, and once there, they have a shot at bringing over their relatives.

 

Although it’s clear that they’re both torn between staying and leaving for better opportunities, and Bruce keeps his mouth shut. He speaks highly of them when he emails in his weekly reports, although it’s nothing but the truth.

 

Pepper, or whoever is getting his reports, will know what to do with the information.

 

In the meantime, Tony keeps sending him text messages, pictures of the labs under construction, of various pieces of equipment being moved in, of whatever Tony happens to be eating at the time.

 

Bruce gets the message; his life would be better if he was in New York, and he can’t necessarily disagree. He’s staying away for a reason, though, and he’s not ready to go back yet. He’s not sure he’ll ever be ready.

 

In any case, he likes Kolkata, and he likes his co-workers, and he’s got more than he’d ever hoped two short weeks before.

 

He can be content where he is. He _can_.

 

**3.**

 

Bruce has never been homesick, not once in his life. As a kid, home had been a place to escape. Even leaving his aunt’s house had been a relief, because Bruce had been able to get away from the memories, to reinvent himself, to move on every time he finished a degree or a job ended.

 

At least until he’d met Betty, when he thought he’d finally found a home, but even after that—after the Other Guy had been created, after he’d hurt her—he hadn’t been homesick.

 

He’d been lonely and heartsick and scared and angry— _so angry_ —but he hadn’t longed for home.

 

Bruce isn’t sure he’s homesick _now_ , so much as he wishes the promise would live up to reality. For a brief time, he’d experienced friendship and belonging with people who knew who and what he was, and accepted him into their ranks in spite of it—or because of it. He wants that feeling again, and what he has at the clinic is but a faint echo.

 

No one here knows him as anyone other than Dr. Bruce Banner, a subpar physician and humanitarian, employed by Stark Industries to foster goodwill. If they knew the truth, Bruce thinks they’d look at him in fear.

 

And so he focuses on the work and tries to forget the fact that he’d actually felt like he might have a home in New York.

 

Kolkata is at least familiar, and he soaks in its warmth and its culture willingly. He eats when he gets the chance, and does what he can to care for those who come to the clinic.

 

He overhears Noor and Amriti talk about the raises they received, and is glad that their good work has been rewarded. It’s a bit of justice in a world that’s often short of it.

 

Bruce still sends regular reports to Pepper and sometimes receives long, chatty emails in response, filling him in on what’s going on that Tony leaves out of his text messages. Bruce knows she’s a busy woman, and he appreciates her attempts to keep him in touch and engaged, just like he appreciates Tony’s texts and occasional phone calls.

 

Tony sends him a hand-held ultrasound after five weeks, along with a note that says, “Don’t think this means you’re staying forever.”

 

Bruce tucks the note in his wallet and resolutely doesn’t think about _why_ he’s doing it.

 

“What’s that?” Noor asks, having lost whatever shyness she had around him two weeks ago.

 

“A hand-held ultrasound,” Bruce replies happily as she and Amriti crowd around. “The latest in tech from Stark Industries. I’ll show you.”

 

It just so happens that they get a pregnant patient walking through the clinic not fifteen minutes after he unpacks the scanner.

 

The woman is enthralled by the image on the small screen, showing a healthy, developing fetus, and Noor’s eyes widen. “I had no idea they came so small,” she says once the woman has left.

 

“They usually don’t,” Bruce replies. There’s a separate sheet of paper with instructions, and Bruce grins. “According to Tony, the battery will last up to 24 hours without needing to be charged.”

 

Amriti blinks at him. “Tony? As in Mr. Tony Stark?”

 

“Uh, yes?”

 

“You know him personally?”

 

Bruce shrugs uncomfortably. “Yeah, we’ve met.”

 

“You call him by his first name,” Noor observes. “You must be friends.”

 

Bruce opens his mouth to dispute that, but then realizes he can’t. Whatever label he’d used, Tony had financed this clinic, had promised to send a doctor to replace him, and now he’d sent new tech.

 

It’s been so long since Bruce has had a friend that he’s forgotten what it feels like.

 

“Yes,” he says finally, wonderingly. “We are.”

 

They both wear expressions of surprise. “How did you meet?” Amriti asks.

 

Bruce feels his happiness fade, remembering why he’d come to SHIELD’s notice, why he’d run in the first place. “I used to be a nuclear physicist,” he replies, and his voice comes from very far away. “They needed my help.”

 

Another wave of patients come into the clinic, and Bruce breathes a grateful sigh. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, and goes to take care of a nasty gash on a young man’s hand.

 

That night, Bruce dreams of a red and gold figure falling from a blue sky, and this time, the Other Guy doesn’t reach Iron Man in time. He wakes with the roar of a beast crawling up his throat and gulps in deep breaths of too-warm air.

 

He drags the back of his arm across his sweat-streaked forehead and rests his head against his bare knees.

 

His phone rings, and Bruce’s heart is in his throat when he sees Pepper’s name on the caller ID. Pepper emails, but she’s never called.

 

“What happened?” Bruce demands as he answers.

 

“He’s okay,” Pepper replies, sounding breathless. “He’s going to be okay. I just wanted to call you in case you saw something on the news.”

 

Bruce doesn’t watch the news, but it’s not entirely unlikely that he’d hear something about Tony Stark, who’s been in the news even more than usual lately. “What happened?” he asks again, less desperately this time.

 

“Terrorists,” Pepper explains succinctly. “They caught Tony without his suit, but he wasn’t hurt as badly as he could have been.”

 

Bruce feels a pang at that. He’s not entirely sure what assistance the Other Guy would be in that situation, but maybe he could have helped. Instead, he’s on the other side of the world, playing with one of the toys Tony had sent.

 

“I’m sorry,” he offers helplessly.

 

“No, no,” Pepper replies. “It’s okay, I just—I have to go. Hang on.”

 

Bruce stays on the phone, hearing muffled voices and the rustle of cloth and the beeping of machines.

 

“Bruce?”

 

He recognizes the voice immediately as belonging to Steve. “Hey,” he manages. “How bad?”

 

“Three cracked ribs and a concussion,” Steve replies. “He’s lucky that the arc reactor wasn’t damaged.”

 

“Lucky,” Bruce echoes dully.

 

“He’s going to be fine,” Steve insists, his voice gentle.

 

Bruce clears his throat. “Right. Thanks.”

 

“Bruce—” Steve pauses. “Look, I know what you’re doing right now is important, but you’d be welcome here.”

 

Bruce hears what Steve won’t say, that they could have used him, and the next time Tony might not be so lucky. He appreciates Steve’s restraint. “Thanks.” Then, plaintively, he adds, “He’s really going to be okay?”

 

“Definitely,” Steve replies. “You know how hard Tony’s head is.”

 

Bruce chuckles a little at that, as Steve probably expects. “Can I talk to Pepper again? I’ll make it quick.”

 

“Yes?” Pepper asks after a moment full of muffled noises.

 

“I think you’d better find my replacement,” Bruce replies.

 

He can hear the relief in her voice when she says, “I’ll take care of it. Anything else?”

 

“You’d probably better let Noor and Amriti manage something one of these days,” Bruce replies. “They’re frighteningly competent.”

 

“Yes, I thought they might be,” Pepper replies, sounding very satisfied. “I’ll be in touch.”

 

“Let me know how he’s doing,” Bruce says.

 

“I’ll have him call you,” Pepper promises, and then says, “I have to go.”

 

“Of course,” Bruce replies, and the line goes dead as soon as the words leave his mouth.

 

He lies back on the bed and breathes deeply, realizing that he’s currently in the strange position of his infirmity being his strength.

 

The Avengers don’t need him because he’s Bruce Banner, an expert in gamma radiation; they need him for the Other Guy, the one who can crush their foes without flinching, without even showing damage.

 

In the past, Bruce had run because someone had been chasing him, and he hadn’t wanted to hurt those he loved.

 

And that’s a terrible thought—Bruce had been willing to risk the lives of strangers, but not his friends and loved ones, but he’s been faced with a multitude of terrible choices over the last few years. He’s not proud of it, but there it is.

 

Right now, however, it appears that the benefits of his presence may outweigh the risks, and he has little choice in the matter.

 

 _So this is what it’s like to walk among giants_ , Bruce thinks.

 

He doesn’t go back to sleep that night. He thinks it might be a long time before he sleeps again.

 

~~~~~

 

It turns out that Pepper is right—Bruce is certain that she usually is, so he’s not surprised. The news about Tony Stark nearly being taken hostage by terrorists makes international news, and both Noor and Amriti come into the clinic buzzing with it.

 

“I know,” Bruce says before they can say anything. “I already got word.”

 

They both look at him speculatively, and Bruce has no idea how to respond without confirming their suspicions—whatever they might be. The coverage of the battle of Manhattan had been available worldwide, and while everyone knows who Iron Man is—hard to miss that—and most people know who Captain America is, the identity of the other Avengers has been kept quiet.

 

Noor and Amriti are intelligent women, though. Bruce is certain that they’re putting two and two together and coming up with the right answer.

 

“We should get to work,” Noor suggests kindly, and Bruce appreciates her sensitivity.

 

He checks his phone frequently, but he receives no texts. Bruce has no idea what to expect from Tony, if anything, and Pepper probably has her hands full. He tries to distract himself with work, but he’s not sure how successful he’s been, given the sympathetic looks that Noor and Amriti keep throwing his way.

 

Finally, near the end of the day, Bruce gets a text from Tony that reads, “Stop worrying. I’m fine.”

 

Bruce lets out a sigh of relief and finishes out the day.

 

He spends six more days at the clinic, and then Pepper calls him and says, “I’ve found your replacement. He starts tomorrow. You have two days to get him acclimated, and then the plane will be waiting for you at the airport.”

 

Bruce thanks her and suspects that this turn of events has been in the works for a long time. There is no way she could have moved so quickly otherwise.

 

Sure enough, Dr. Samuel Jani arrives the next day, introducing himself to Bruce in a flawless American accent, and then speaking Bengali to Noor and Amriti, at least at first, until he switches to English again.

 

“Forgive me, Dr. Banner,” he says. “I was told you spoke Bengali.”

 

“Very little,” Bruce admits. “It’s fine.”

 

“Dr. Banner is improving every day,” Amriti says loyally. “He is very good with the patients.”

 

Bruce flushes. “Thanks. Dr. Jani, let me show you around.”

 

“Sam, please,” he replies. “I was very pleased to be offered this position.”

 

Bruce couldn’t dispute that. A clinic such as this one usually offers a minimal salary. “I’m sure I don’t need to say this, but Ms. Desai and Ms. Seeta are very competent.”

 

“So I’ve been told,” Sam replies. “It will be a pleasure to work with them, I’m sure.”

 

It doesn’t take Bruce long to acquaint Sam with the clinic, and it becomes obvious very quickly that he’ll get along far better than Bruce had. He speaks several languages for one, and he’s a very good doctor. He defers to Noor or Amriti sometimes, and sometimes takes charge, and Bruce can see the beginnings of a real team.

 

He feels left out, but not in a bad way. He knows the clinic will be in good hands and that Sam and Noor and Amriti will work well together. They have no need for Bruce here, and if it turns out there’s no need for him in New York, Bruce will find another place to run.

 

Bruce is good at that.

 

~~~~~

 

Because he insisted on it, Bruce makes his own way to the airport, rather than relying on Tony’s good will. He can’t depend on Tony Stark forever, after all.

 

The cab lets him off at the airport, and Bruce overpays the driver. He stops by the desk inside and gets directions to the hangar. He still can’t quite believe Tony has insisted on a private plane, but he’s not sorry to avoid the commercial airlines.

 

He spots the sleek jet, and a woman in a trim uniform standing next to the bottom of the staircase. She holds out a hand for his duffel bag. “Dr. Banner, it’s good to have you on board.”

 

Bruce debates insisting on carrying his luggage and decides it’s not worth it. “Thanks.”

 

He climbs the stairs slowly and stops cold when he enters the cabin and sees Tony lounging in one of the seats, his left eye black and blue, and a bruise along that side of his jaw.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” Bruce asks. “And by the way, you didn’t have to send a private jet.”

 

“Okay, first off, I know how well _I_ deal with commercial air travel, and I’d hate to see you go green at 30,000 feet,” Tony says. “Second, I _am_ resting. Pepper convinced Jarvis to lock me out of my own lab, and she agreed that sitting in one place for a full day is probably a good thing.” Tony pats the seat next to him. “Come on, I have something I want to show you.”

 

“Speaking as a doctor, I feel like I should point out that 24 or more hours in a plane is _not_ restful,” Bruce says, but he takes the seat next to Tony anyway. “But thanks.”

 

Tony shrugs and then winces. “Ow.”

 

“Stop that,” Bruce orders and looks for hidden injuries, grateful to see him in one piece. The small knot of worry that has been in his gut since Pepper’s call dissolves at the sight of Tony in good spirits and in relative good health. “I’m glad you’re in one piece.”

 

“Hey.” Tony nudges Bruce’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Pepper disturbed you.”

 

“I preferred knowing,” Bruce replies. “And she was right. I heard the news after she called me.”

 

Tony nods, and then pulls up a hologram. “I was trying to figure a way around this problem, and I thought you could help.”

 

And just like that, the awkwardness has passed, and they have that same instant rapport they’d had on the helicarrier. “Yeah, sure, whatever I can do,” Bruce replies, smelling Tony’s slightly spicy cologne, feeling the warmth radiating from his body, content as he ever is.

 

**4.**

 

The long flight passes quickly as they work on Tony’s problem. Until the helicarrier, Bruce had put the possibility of doing pure research again out of his mind as an impossibility, right alongside being with Betty and not running from the Army.

 

Bruce falls asleep midway through, while Tony’s letting his computer run complicated equations, waking when the jet touches down in New York. He’s mortified at the patch of drool on Tony’s shirt.

 

Tony just squeezes the back of Bruce’s neck, as though he’s used to being drooled on and doesn’t mind. “I slept, too,” he offers. “It’s okay.”

 

Bruce wants to say that it’s not, that he’s already trusted Tony far more than he’s trusted anyone else in his recollection, but he can’t. The truth is that he’s been craving human contact for a long time, and Tony’s hand on him is fulfilling a need he hadn’t been aware of a few days ago.

 

Tony squeezes Bruce’s neck once more before releasing him, and offers, “You can sleep on me whenever you want, you know. You’re adorable.”

 

Bruce flushes. “I’m really not.”

 

Tony just smirks. “Have you seen yourself when you’re sleeping? No? I rest my case.”

 

Bruce knows better than to argue with Tony, and while he’d like to escape as soon as the pilot gives the all clear, he’s careful of Tony. He gives Tony a hand up from his seat and takes the stairs slowly, glancing back over his shoulder frequently to check Tony’s progress.

 

“I’m fine,” Tony says irritably, but he takes each step slowly, leaning heavily on the rail, and Bruce pauses until Tony catches up.

 

“Come on, lean on me,” Bruce says, inserting himself on Tony’s good side and taking most of his weight.

 

Tony grimaces. “I’m fine, you know.”

 

“Humor me,” Bruce orders, and is gratified when Tony complies, draping an arm over Bruce’s shoulders.

 

Pepper’s waiting for them just inside the hangar doors, and the anxiety in her expression clears when she sees Tony. “You should have stayed in bed,” she frets.

 

“I slept most of the way,” Tony protests. “You know that’s better than I’d do otherwise.”

 

Pepper sighs and smiles. “Fine.” She kisses Tony then, and Bruce looks away. Tony’s arm is still slung over his shoulders, so he can’t retreat. “Hi, Bruce.”

 

Bruce summons up a smile, daring to tease her a bit. “Miss Potts.”

 

“What did I tell you about that?”

 

His smile broadens. “Pepper.”

 

“Better,” she replies and kisses his cheek. “Welcome home.”

 

Bruce flushes slightly. “Uh, thanks. I should grab my bag.”

 

“That’s being handled,” Pepper replies, pulling out her Stark Phone and checking her schedule. “Are you two hungry?”

 

“Not particularly,” Tony says. “I really need to—”

 

“If you’re going to say that you need to work, I will _hurt_ you,” Pepper says fiercely. “Bruce, for the record, Tony isn’t cleared for his workshop for another two days. That means no working on anything that isn’t holographic.”

 

Tony pouts. “But I think I’ve solved the problem with the power output.”

 

“It will be there when you’re cleared by the doctor,” Pepper replies severely. “And if you want a second opinion, you can ask Bruce.”

 

Tony smirks. “Bruce, you wanna play doctor?”

 

Pepper rolls her eyes, and Bruce covers his smile with his hand; Pepper had walked right into that one. “I’m a pretty mediocre doctor, but I’ll do what I can,” he says, sharing a look with Pepper.

 

Tony frowns. “No fair. You two are in cahoots.”

 

“True,” Pepper agrees. “Come on. I’ll have Happy drop you off on the way to my meeting.”

 

Pepper spends the car ride getting signatures from Tony and asking him questions about his plans for the technological side of Stark Industries. Bruce hadn’t been clear on Tony’s role with the company now that Pepper is CEO, but he gathers that Tony is CTO now that he’s not dying.

 

And that’s apparently a story for another time, although Bruce senses that Tony nearly dying is a bit of a sore spot for Pepper.

 

“You know I hate being handed things,” Tony protests when she tries to get him to sign a contract.

 

Pepper glares at him. “Tony, you owe me.”

 

He sighs and signs. “You’re not going to be able to hold the terrorists over my head forever,” he warns.

 

“No, just until the next time you almost die, and then I’ll hold _that_ over your head,” Pepper replies sweetly.

 

Bruce watches the interplay with interest. If he’s going to be staying at Stark Tower for the foreseeable future, he’d like to know what he’s getting himself into, and that means figuring out Tony and Pepper’s relationship.

 

He could always get an apartment in the city, of course, but he’s not sure how he’d pay for it. Bruce won’t be drawing the salary he was getting in India, and he’s not getting paid from any other source either.

 

That’s not much of a change from the last few years, when Bruce rarely knew where his next meal was coming from, or whether he’d be able to keep a roof over his head for more than a week at a time.

 

He’s in a much better position now—he has a little money in the bank from the last couple of months in India getting a doctor’s salary, and he doesn’t have to worry about rent for a week or two at least—maybe not until things in the tower become untenable.

 

But Bruce is pretty good at fading into the background. With any luck, they won’t know he’s there.

 

Pepper lets them off in front of Stark Tower, and gives Bruce a meaningful look. “Thanks for looking after him,” she says.

 

That’s enough of a message for Bruce, and he nods. “Sure, no problem.”

 

Tony leads the way into the private elevator that goes up to the living quarters. “I hope you don’t mind, but we changed your room a bit since you were here.”

 

Bruce blinks. “ _My_ room?”

 

“Yeah, you know, the one you stayed in last time. I’ve technically got guest quarters on other floors for the rest of the Avengers, but I thought you might want to be closer.”

 

“Okay,” Bruce says, and follows Tony to the same room he’d stayed in last time, when it had been comfortable if bland.

 

The décor is still restful, with thick, plush carpet in a dark brown, and taupe walls. There’s abstract art on the walls that’s evocative and probably expensive, with a small fountain in the corner that creates a calming white noise. The plants around the room add another layer of serenity, and Bruce shakes his head. “This is—this is amazing.”

 

“Pepper knows somebody,” Tony replies dismissively. “She told him you wanted peace and quiet, and you’d traveled a lot, and this is what he came up with.” Then, more uncertainly, Tony adds, “We wanted you to feel at home.”

 

Bruce is speechless; he has no way to explain that no one has ever prepared a room with him in mind before.

 

“You don’t like it,” Tony says flatly.

 

“No!” Bruce swallows. “It’s great. It’s—perfect. Really.”

 

“Okay,” Tony replies. “Do you want to take a nap, or—”

 

Bruce shrugs, looking longingly at the big bed, but knowing that he probably has a responsibility to keep Tony out of trouble. “I slept on the plane. Why don’t we play around with the power output?”

 

They work on the output problem for the rest of the afternoon, bouncing data back and forth much as they had on the helicarrier. It’s like no time has passed at all since the last time they’d seen each other, and the same connection thrums between them.

 

He has no idea how much time has passed until Pepper comes back with two plastic bags full of Thai take-out. Bruce’s stomach rumbles, reminding him that it’s been a while since he’d eaten.

 

They sit down at the bar, and they all pick up chopsticks, wielding them expertly, picking food out of cardboard boxes and sharing their favorite bits. Bruce isn’t exactly sleepy, but he can tell when Tony starts to flag—he drops out of the conversation, and the lines around his eyes and mouth deepen in pain.

 

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” Bruce announces.

 

Pepper rewards him with a grateful look and says, “Sleep well, Bruce. I’ll see you in a few days.”

 

Bruce nods; she’d mentioned her trip to Tokyo and then Mumbai over dinner, with the clear indication that Bruce was to at least attempt to prevent Tony from doing anything idiotic in her absence.

 

He thought she might be putting a little too much faith in him, but he’s going to do his best, and this seems to be a good start.

 

Tony puts his chopsticks down. “If you have to,” he says begrudgingly. “I’m a little tired myself.”

 

“Good night,” Bruce replies. “Thanks for dinner.”

 

When he closes the door behind him, all sound but that of the fountain in the corner is cut off, and when he removes his shoes, his feet sink into plush carpet. The room feels like a cocoon, a calm oasis, and he takes off his clothes, stretching out on the bed, with its ridiculously comfortable mattress.

 

After a moment, he decides he’s not as tired as he’d thought, and he retrieves his battered Dickens, opening it up to _Oliver Twist_ , which seems strangely appropriate. He reads until he can’t keep his eyes open, and then he turns off the light, falling asleep to the quiet sound of water burbling.

 

~~~~~

 

The next morning, Bruce wakes with the first light of dawn. He’s tired enough to be tempted to go back to sleep, but he’s not entirely sure of his place here, or how early Tony might be up, and so judges it best not to give into the desire to be lazy.

 

Unsurprisingly, the shower is just as much of a hedonist’s delight as the bed is, and there are clothes hanging in the closet that fit him better than the few things in his duffel bag. One of the shirts probably costs more than he’s spent on clothing in the last five years combined, but Bruce shrugs philosophically.

 

He’s used to making the best of his situation, whatever it might be. It just so happens that his current circumstances are better than most he’s found himself in recently.

 

When he heads to the kitchen in search of tea or coffee—he’s not picky—Bruce finds Pepper checking emails on her phone. She looks completely professional in her black suit and pale gray shirt, her strawberry blonde hair pulled up in a ponytail.

 

“There’s coffee in the pot, or you can put the kettle on,” Pepper says, glancing up with a smile.

 

The mug on the counter is bright green, which causes Bruce to raise his eyebrows, but he’s not going to let the lurid color stop him. The coffee smells _heavenly_.

 

“I don’t want you to think that Tony can’t take care of himself,” Pepper says suddenly as Bruce sits down across from her at the wide counter. “He can. It’s just—” She stops, her lips pressing together in a thin line, and he remembers how shaky her voice had sounded when she’d called him in India, and he understands.

 

“Too many close calls in too short a time?” he suggests gently.

 

She nods. “Yes, exactly. It’s probably a good thing I have this trip. I know I’m—it’s hard to let go of that. I need to not worry for a while, and he needs me not to worry.”

 

“I’ll do what I can,” Bruce promises. “I owe him.”

 

Pepper smiles. “I think he’d say that he owes you. So would I.”

 

Bruce flushes. “I don’t really remember any of that, you know.”

 

 _Red and gold tumbling from a blue sky_ —

 

“You don’t have to remember it,” Pepper replies, and reaches out to touch his forearm. “ _We_ remember. That’s the important thing.”

 

He sips his coffee to cover his confusion; it tastes as good as it smells, and he’s grateful when Pepper doesn’t push the matter.

 

“I should go.” Pepper let’s go of his arm and rises, tugging at the bottom of her suit jacket to straighten it. “Tony might not mind making everyone wait, but I feel a little differently.”

 

“Have a safe trip,” Bruce says.

 

She nods. “Don’t let Tony drive you too crazy.”

 

Oddly enough, that possibility has never entered Bruce’s mind.

 

**5.**

 

Tony doesn’t emerge until closer to noon, but he looks greatly improved. Bruce had stopped after his second cup of coffee, not wanting to risk any more caffeine, and he’s reading, not knowing what else to do.

 

“How long have you been up?” Tony asks as he pours a cup of coffee.

 

“A few hours.”

 

“Did you eat?”

 

“Leftover Thai,” Bruce admits.

 

Tony gives him a sharp look. “Hey, no guilt, okay? Make yourself at home. I tend to forget to eat when I’m in the middle of something, but you shouldn’t let that stop you.”

 

Bruce smiles. “Got it.”

 

“Great. Have you been down to the lab yet?”

 

“I didn’t know where it was,” Bruce replies.

 

“You could have asked Jarvis.”

 

“I didn’t want to impose.” Bruce holds up a hand before Tony can respond to that. “And I didn’t think the labs would be done.”

 

“I told them to put a rush on it.” Tony’s suddenly grinning, looking as excited as a kid in a candy store. “Come on, you’re going to love it.”

 

Bruce can’t help but catch some of Tony’s excitement. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be working.”

 

Tony shrugs, then winces. “I won’t be working; I’ll be watching you work, which is almost as good.”

 

Bruce trails Tony to the elevator, and they descend several floors. When the doors open, they’re faced with a door in a blank wall with a keypad on the right side.

 

“Jarvis, you remember Dr. Banner,” Tony says casually.

 

“Of course,” Jarvis replies. “Welcome back, Dr. Banner.”

 

Bruce is still slightly blown away by Tony’s AI. “Thanks, Jarvis.”

 

“Voiceprint is confirmed for Dr. Banner,” Jarvis says. “Dr. Banner, please place your hand on the scanner for bioprint identification.”

 

Tony nudges Bruce forward. “Retina scan, handprint, voiceprint. This particular lab is keyed to you and me, but you can add anyone else you want. I’ve got a workshop on the floor above this one that’s the same way, and you’ll have access to that one, too.”

 

Bruce leans in close to the scanner for the bioprint scan, not knowing quite how to respond to that show of faith. As the doors slide open, he says, “You didn’t have to do any of that.”

 

Tony ignores him. “Welcome to your new sandbox, Dr. Banner,” he announces grandly.

 

Bruce stops and stares. The gleaming lab and equipment rivals the best research facilities in the world, and he immediately recognizes at least three pieces of tech that are so cutting edge they probably don’t exist anywhere else.

 

He wanders around slowly, touching one of the tall benches reverently. He’s speechless, and Tony seems to understand that, because he just lets Bruce explore while he looks on with a slightly indulgent smile and a gleam in his eye that Bruce can’t categorize.

 

Eventually, Tony breaks the silence by asking, “How much is SHIELD paying you?”

 

Bruce gives him an incredulous look. “Why would they be paying me anything?”

 

“Agents Barton and Romanoff are on the payroll, Rogers is still technically drawing his Army pay—and with back pay, that’s a sizeable nest egg—but you and I are technically considered consultants. I waived my fee, but I’m a billionaire; I don’t need the money.”

 

Bruce can’t help the snort of disbelief. “Oh, is _that_ what we are?” When Tony raises an eyebrow, he says, “I don’t remember a lot of consulting going on.”

 

Tony nods slowly; clearly, this isn’t news to him. “So, they haven’t made you an offer yet?”

 

“Why would they?”

 

“Well, they would if anyone there had half a brain,” Tony replies. “Since they haven’t yet, I have no problem stealing you from under their noses.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “I’m not sure I understand. The first time I lose control, there’s a good chance I’ll take the whole lab with me—or, you know, a few city blocks.”

 

Tony waves that concern away. “It’s a risk-benefit analysis. You mostly have control, and when we need the Hulk, we can’t afford you to be on the other side of the world. Besides, you’d be an asset to Stark Industries, and I’m not inclined to miss out on that.”

 

Bruce feels a flash of guilt. “I’m sorry about that.”

 

Tony appears genuinely surprised. “Sorry about what?”

 

“Being on the other side of the world when you needed the Other Guy.” He turns back to the electron microscope sitting in one corner.

 

Tony makes a frustrated sound. “Is that what Rogers told you?”

 

“He didn’t have to.”

 

“Look, it happened on my way to a meeting,” Tony says, crossing the distance separating them to grab Bruce’s arm. “There was an explosion, the car rolled a couple of times, and I got knocked around. Lucky for me, I was pretty close, had the suit on demand, and I managed to avoid them long enough for Jarvis to get it to me.”

 

Bruce feels sick. He knows exactly what would have happened if he’d been with Tony at the time. “Tony—”

 

“I held them off until Steve arrived, when I promptly passed out,” Tony continues, steamrolling over Bruce. “Which is why Pepper insisted on calling you. If you’d been there, I’m sure you would have smashed them to a pulp.”

 

Bruce frowns. “And probably you, too.”

 

“Doubtful,” Tony says. “The Other Guy likes me. That’s not the point, though.”

 

“What’s the point?” Bruce demands. “You know how dangerous I am.”

 

“The _point_ is that long before I had this—” and Tony taps the arc reactor in his chest, the clink muffled by his black t-shirt—“there were people trying to kill me because I was Tony Stark. Now, people _still_ try to kill me because of who I am, they just have more reasons to do so—because I’m rich, because I used to make weapons, because I’m trying to bring clean energy to the world, because I’m Iron Man. And anybody standing next to me might end up being collateral damage.”

 

Bruce blinks. That’s not something he’s thought about, although it doesn’t scare him. He’s not sure there’s anything on earth that could truly hurt him, let alone kill him. “I won’t be.”

 

Tony beams at him. “And it just so happens you’re brilliant and easy on the eyes. It’s a win for everybody.”

 

Bruce looks around the lab slowly. “Is this—is this a seduction strategy?”

 

Tony smirks. “Is it working?”

 

“A little bit.”

 

“Then, yes, it is,” Tony replies. “Come on, Bruce. It’s time to strut a little bit.”

 

Bruce meets Tony’s eyes. “Trial basis only,” he insists.

 

“Give me three months,” Tony suggests. “We can renegotiate then.”

 

Bruce nods. “All right. I hope you don’t regret it.”

 

“Oh, never fear, Big Guy,” Tony replies, slinging an arm across Bruce’s shoulders. “This is gonna be _fantastic_.”

 

**6.**

 

The truth is that he still feels a little itchy, like he needs to get moving any day now, but he stifles the feeling because no matter what Tony has said about the attempt on his life, Bruce knows he’s of more use here, even if he is a danger to everyone around him.

 

If he stays, the Other Guy will make an appearance, or the Army will come after him, and one or both will end up hurting those he likes (loves) sooner or later. Bruce doesn’t get to keep the things or people he loves; they slip through his hands like water. He can’t hang onto them.

 

And what he has right now is a good thing—he can see that. He has regular meals, although he’s usually the one to cook or order out, since Tony tends to rely on protein shakes to survive when he isn’t indulging his hedonistic side and eating the best food on offer.

 

Bruce’s clothes fit and don’t chafe, which is more comforting than he’d like to admit, and the work—Bruce probably wouldn’t remember to sleep or eat, except that he feels compelled to set a good example for Tony.

 

(The second night after he returned to New York, after they’d been working all day, Tony had winced as he shifted on a lab stool while Bruce tested out some of the new equipment.

 

At that point, Bruce had given into impulse and asked to see Tony’s injuries. He’d had the chance to run his hands along Tony’s ribs, checking for breaks as he had so many times in his capacity as a doctor.

 

He’d ignored the arousal he felt when he felt Tony’s bare skin under his hands; that had been inconsequential to the task of determining Tony’s fitness.

 

Cracked ribs felt just the same as whole ribs under Bruce’s fingertips, but he could see the bruising that had bloomed on Tony’s side, almost from navel to collarbone. Tony had been lucky that only a couple of ribs had been cracked.

 

Tony had covered Bruce’s hands with his own and had said quietly, sincerely, “I’m okay. I’ve had worse.”

 

“Okay,” Bruce had agreed, and then his eyes had been drawn to the arc reactor.

 

“Go ahead,” Tony had invited, and Bruce had traced the slightly puckered skin around the reactor, seeing the veins around it.

 

“It’s not gross, right?” Tony had asked.

 

Bruce had heard the undercurrent of anxiety in Tony’s voice, and he’d said honestly, “It’s one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen.”

 

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” Tony replied, and then they’d gone to their respective rooms for the night, but Bruce’s chest had ached, wanting things he couldn’t have.)

 

Bruce had lain in bed that night and wished very hard that he could keep Tony safe, and he figures keeping Tony fed and making sure he gets a few hours of sleep is the best he can do until faced with an enemy.

 

When Jarvis releases the restrictions on Tony, the other man retreats to his lab, leaving Bruce to his own space. Bruce hardly knows what to do with himself, let alone his lab, without Tony bugging him every few minutes.

 

Bruce has returned to his old experiments, attempting to find a way to rid himself of the Other Guy, or at least bury him. But that pursuit feels forced right now.

 

He’s not worth much to Tony, or the Avengers Initiative, if he doesn’t have the Other Guy lurking inside his skin; Bruce is just another physicist without that.

 

As Tony had said, it’s a terrible privilege, but Bruce is beginning to see Tony’s point of view.

 

After a fruitless morning, Bruce makes a couple of sandwiches and goes to find Tony in his workshop. He’s bent over a gauntlet with a soldering iron in hand and goggles on, wearing only a black tank top. Black Sabbath blares in the background, and Bruce stands back, just watching Tony work.

 

He might enjoy watching Tony a little more than is healthy.

 

“You miss me already?” Tony asks when he’s laid aside his tool and ordered Jarvis to turn the music down a few notches.

 

Bruce sets the plate with the sandwiches down next to the gauntlet. “I was hungry, actually. Thought you might be, too.”

 

Tony looks pleased. “I could probably eat. So, how many calories does the Other Guy consume?”

 

Bruce blinks; it’s not a question anyone has ever asked him. “If there haven’t been any incidents, I burn calories at only a slightly higher rate than normal,” he admits.

 

“And after you turn into an enormous green rage monster?”

 

“I could triple it and still be hungry for days,” Bruce replies. That’s yet another reason he hates the transformation. He’s always so fucking hungry afterwards, and with no guarantee that he’ll have any food, let alone what he needs.

 

Tony hums thoughtfully. “Shawarma was a good idea then.”

 

“A very good idea,” Bruce agrees. “Why do you ask?”

 

Tony hitches a shoulder, giving Bruce that same penetrating stare he’d worn on the helicarrier, like he wants to know all of Bruce’s secrets.

 

Lots of people want to know, but Tony’s the only person who’s ever seemed to _care_.

 

“Sooner or later, we’ll need him again.” Tony’s grin is quick and sharp. “I want to be sure we have what we need afterward. You know—food, emergency pants, that sort of thing.”

 

Tony’s sly tone startles a laugh out of Bruce, and Tony adds, “Not that I personally mind you going pantsless.”

 

Bruce shakes his head, not taking Tony seriously. “I prefer to keep my clothes on.”

 

“Pity,” Tony responds. “You want to help me with this? I’ve been experiencing some power fluctuations in the right gauntlet, and I can’t quite track down the problem.”

 

He’s relieved by the offer, and by the fact that Tony doesn’t ask him what he’d been working on, or why he’d stopped. Power fluctuations are a relatively simple problem with a clear-cut solution; the Other Guy has never fit into that category.

 

And, Bruce has to admit, now that he’s part of the Avengers, things are just that much more complicated.

 

**7.**

 

He sets his research into eradicating the Other Guy aside for now.  It doesn’t seem as pressing as it had before, not when he can investigate other uses for gamma radiation, like curing cancer—or at least certain kinds of cancer. He works with Tony on solving the problems with getting the arc reactor to work on a larger scale and for longer periods of time.

 

Even though Bruce isn’t much of an engineer, he finds himself spending a lot of time in Tony’s workshop, helping him put the next Iron Man suit together.

 

Pepper returns after a week away, finding both of them in Tony’s lab. Tony’s working on plans for a bigger and better arc reactor, one that will power an entire city, and Bruce is reading the latest article on gamma radiation and wincing, because the entire premise is wrong.

 

“This is stupid,” Bruce mutters just as Pepper enters the lab.

 

“I haven’t heard that before,” Pepper says lightly, smiling broadly.

 

Tony turns towards her with a grin. “Pepper! Love of my life!”

 

She rolls her eyes. “Please. The love of your life is that suit.”

 

Tony grins. “I have room for both animate and inanimate in my heart.”

 

“Well, Bruce is still here, so I’ll accept that explanation,” Pepper replies. She threads her hand through his hair and pulls him in for a kiss. Bruce turns away to give them privacy, and then can’t help sneaking a peak.

 

They look good together, and it’s been a long time since Bruce has seen any action; he tells himself that he can’t help watching.

 

Pepper breaks off the kiss, lingering a bit, and then turns to Bruce. “Thanks for keeping him out of trouble,” she says.

 

“I didn’t do much,” Bruce protests, and flushes when she presses a kiss to his cheek. “But it was my pleasure.”

 

Pepper smiles warmly and hooks her arm through his. “Are you hungry?” she asks. “Because I’m starving.”

 

“I could eat,” Tony replies. “We ate lunch, didn’t we, Bruce?”

 

Bruce checks his watch. “About eight hours ago.”

 

“Good, then you’ll have dinner with me,” Pepper says decisively, giving Tony a look.

 

Tony shrugs. “Out or in?”

 

“Out,” she replies. “But low key. I want to change into something more comfortable. You have fifteen minutes.”

 

Bruce pulls back slightly. “I don’t want to intrude.”

 

Pepper leans in a little closer, making her point, even as she exchanges a look with Tony that Bruce can’t interpret. “I wouldn’t have asked if it was an intrusion,” she replies.

 

“Come on,” Tony wheedles, and now Bruce is on familiar ground. “It’s dinner.”

 

Bruce thinks about it for a moment, but the other option is to stay in his room or the lab, and he’s grown used to having company. Bruce likes solitude, but he’s had enough of that recently; he’s not going to pass up spending time with Tony and Pepper.

 

“Do I need to change?” he asks.

 

Pepper looks him up and down, apparently taking in Bruce’s khakis and purple t-shirt. “No, you’re perfect,” she assures him.

 

Tony spreads his arms. “And me?”

 

Pepper rolls her eyes. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in fifteen.”

 

“Oh, come on,” Tony calls after her. “No compliment for me?” But he’s grinning broadly, and Bruce suspects this banter is all part of the game. In his opinion, Tony looks great in jeans and a black polo shirt.

 

“We’d better wash up,” Tony says. “And you might as well grab a jacket.”

 

Bruce frowns, trying to remember if he has one in his closet. “Yeah, okay.”

 

Tony sighs. “Never mind. I’ll grab two jackets.”

 

That’s how Bruce somehow finds himself walking between Tony and Pepper, wearing a jacket that belongs to Tony, feeling like a teenager on his first date.

 

Pepper is just as casual in jeans and a gray t-shirt, her face scrubbed free of makeup, her hair pulled back. She still has an arm threaded through Bruce’s, which seems strange given that she’s with Tony. Tony doesn’t seem to mind, though. He keeps touching Bruce—his elbow, his shoulder, his hand.

 

Instead of feeling like a third wheel, Bruce feels integral. It’s been so long since he’s felt that way, since he’s believed anyone wanted him around in spite of the Other Guy, he doesn’t know what to do with it.

 

They end up eating at the same shawarma joint they’d eaten at after the battle. The owners clearly recognize Tony because they give him a steep discount, but they don’t say anything, or make a big deal out of his presence. The three of them occupy a corner table, with Tony and Pepper sitting next to each other. Bruce is fairly certain they’re playing footsie under the table, but he doesn’t even mind that.

 

He listens as Pepper fills Tony in on the fruits of her meetings in India and Japan, intrigued by the glimpse into the behind the scenes of Stark Industries.

 

“We just need to convince this guy to stick around,” Tony says. “He’s doing wonders with gamma radiation. We might be able to expand into the medical technology arena in a bigger way.”

 

Pepper visibly perks up at that. “We’ve been talking about moving in that direction. So far, our efforts to develop nanotechnology haven’t been entirely successful. But gamma radiation is a new direction for us.”

 

“I don’t have anything solid,” Bruce warns her.

 

“Stark Industries is committed to research and development,” Pepper replies primly, and then grins. “But this is promising. What do you have so far?”

 

Bruce begins explaining hesitantly, and receives appreciative attention from both of them.

 

“Pep?” Tony prompts as Bruce winds down, nudging her gently.

 

“We can work with this,” Pepper says. “Just the news that we’re working on cutting edge cancer treatments will probably bring in funding, and it will definitely get us a boost in public approval. Excellent.”

 

Bruce feels alarm. “I can’t promise anything.”

 

“And we won’t promise anything either,” Pepper says easily. “But perception is nine-tenths of pretty much everything. And knowing we’re entering the field will challenge other companies to beat us.”

 

Bruce has to bow to her expertise. Pepper knows far more about that sort of thing than he does, and he’s not opposed to giving SI an edge.

 

“It’s probably only going to be a last resort,” he warns. “And only for those cancers that are otherwise impossible to treat. We’re a long way off from human trials.”

 

Pepper smiles, looking a little mercenary. “Even better, I promise. This is going to be fantastic.”

 

They head back to Stark Tower eventually, and this time Tony and Pepper walk arm in arm, their heads bent close together. Oddly enough, it doesn’t bother Bruce. He likes watching them; he likes seeing their obvious intimacy, and how close they lean together. He likes seeing them steal kisses, if only because Bruce figures that’s as close as he’s going to get to sex.

 

When they arrive back at the Tower, before they part ways, Pepper kisses him on the cheek again. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she promises.

 

“I’ll make breakfast,” he replies.

 

Pepper smiles. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

 

Tony smirks as he says, “Bruce.”

 

“Tony,” Bruce replies, keeping a straight face with some effort. And then Tony kisses him on the cheek, leaving Bruce stunned long enough for them to disappear.

 

When Bruce goes to bed that night, he dreams of them both, chaotic images that bear more relationship to his quasi-memories of being the Other Guy than anything else.

 

He’s certain of one thing, though—Bruce is completely lost, so wrapped up in Tony (and Pepper), that he doesn’t have any other option but to stay.

 

**8.**

 

The next few weeks offer more of the same. Bruce works on various projects, always keeping in mind his promise to Tony—he’ll stay for three months, and only as long as his presence doesn’t endanger anyone else.

 

He’s aware of time slipping away, and of the burgeoning hope that this time things will be different, that he won’t have to leave. He thinks he might be able to live in Tony Stark’s orbit forever.

 

Two months pass, and Bruce knows he’s in deep. He’s up to his ears in work—gamma radiation treatments, a consulting assignment for SHIELD that he’s working on in conjunction with Selvig, and a side project for Tony working on another source for clean energy. That’s not counting the half dozen other things that he’s started but aren’t pressing.

 

He has obligations, personal ties, _duties_. It’s strange, but not unwelcome.

 

Tony saunters into his lab while Bruce is going over calculations for Selvig’s project. “I need a favor,” he announces.

 

Bruce looks up and pulls off his glasses. “Oh?”

 

“There’s an awards dinner tonight,” Tony says. “I need a date.”

 

Bruce frowns. “What about Pepper?”

 

“She’s in L.A., probably eviscerating a few CEOs who won’t give her what she wants,” Tony replies. “She’s threatened to dismember me if I don’t go.”

 

Bruce raises an eyebrow. “I fail to see why that requires me being there.”

 

Tony spreads his arms. “Have you seen me? I’m irresistible. You’ll keep me out of trouble.”

 

A smile tilts Bruce’s lips even though he tries to keep a straight face. “You want me to cockblock.”

 

Tony’s eyes widen, and Bruce can see that he’s surprised over Bruce’s use of the crude term, and then Tony laughs. “Think you’re up to the challenge?”

 

Bruce ducks his head. “I don’t see how I’m going to be all that helpful.”

 

Tony smirks. “Are you in?”

 

“I’m not great in crowds,” Bruce warns him.

 

Tony waves off that objection. “Stick close to me, and you’ll be fine.”

 

Bruce shrugs. “How does Pepper feel about it?”

 

“It was partly her idea,” Tony replies. “Eight o’clock in the lobby, don’t be late.”

 

“I don’t have anything to wear,” Bruce calls as Tony heads for the door.

 

Tony doesn’t turn around. “Already taken care of!”

 

That’s how Bruce finds himself in a custom tux later that night, having showered and shaved. He’s not sure he’s ever had a tux that fit this well, and he adjusts his cuffs with the silver cufflinks that he’d found on his dresser, monogramed with BB.

 

Taking a deep breath, Bruce heads down to the lobby, finding Tony waiting for him.

 

“Right on time, as usual,” Tony says. “Ready to strut?”

 

Bruce rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “I think that’s your job.”

 

“I do not have the monopoly on that,” Tony replies. “Yet.” He puts a hand in the middle of Bruce’s back, steering him out through the front doors to the waiting limo.

 

“I’m never going to get used to this,” Bruce murmurs.

 

Tony gives him a sharp look. “Stick around long enough, and you might.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “I didn’t grow up with this sort of thing.” He doesn’t say that it could be taken from him at any moment, knowing that Tony will disagree, and he has no intention of starting an argument.

 

“Wait until you get your first patent,” Tony promises. “I’ll let you buy me dinner.”

 

“Wherever you want,” Bruce agrees, although he privately doubts that will ever happen. His luck seems to have turned, but he’s not going to count on that trend continuing.

 

Bruce stares out the window, watching the lights of the city pass by.

 

“We should go to Malibu sometime,” Tony suggests out of the blue. “Maybe meet Pepper out there. What do you think?”

 

Bruce glances at Tony, trying to gauge his seriousness. “You don’t need me along for that.”

 

“You haven’t seen the particle accelerator I built,” Tony counters.

 

Bruce sits up a little straighter. “Seriously?”

 

“That’s how I got the vibranium,” Tony says, tapping the center of his chest. “How long has it been since you had a vacation?”

 

Bruce smiles. “Do the last two months count?”

 

“Not even a little bit,” Tony replies.

 

“I can’t remember,” he says honestly.

 

Tony grins. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

 

And then the limo pulls up in front of the Waldorf-Astoria, and Tony leads the way out of the limo, buttoning his jacket and waiting for Bruce to get out. Bruce is half-blinded by flashbulbs, and he pauses and blinks, feeling Tony’s hand grip his arm to steady him.

 

“Didn’t Fury tell us to keep a low profile?” Bruce asks, leaning in close to Tony so that he wouldn’t be overheard.

 

“That was ages ago,” Tony replies in the same low tone, releasing Bruce’s arm just long enough to wrap his arm around Bruce’s shoulders. “Besides, it would have been a much bigger deal if hadn’t shown up, which is why Pepper threatened me to make sure I got here.”

 

Tony waves at the reporters, grinning broadly, and Bruce manages a weak smile. He suspects the pictures will not be flattering, and he can only hope that Tony manages to hog the spotlight.

 

He steers Bruce subtly, though, ignoring all the reporters’ shouted questions until one woman calls out, “Mr. Stark! Who’s your date tonight?”

 

“Dr. Bruce Banner,” Tony replies with a grin. “He’s here to keep me out of trouble.”

 

“Where’s Miss Potts?” someone else asks, Bruce can’t tell who.

 

“Off running Stark Industries,” Tony replies. “That’s what I pay her for.”

 

Another reporter calls, “Does she know you brought another date?”

 

The sly question calls forth an absolutely filthy smile from Tony. “Of course,” he replies. “He’s a _very_ good friend to both of us.”

 

Bruce knows his blush is just going to fuel rumors, and he wants to correct any faulty impressions, but any attempt on his part will have the opposite effect.

 

“They’re going to think we’re together,” Bruce hisses as they enter the building, getting away from the cameras.

 

Tony pats him on the shoulder. “All part of the plan, Big Guy.” Bruce shoots him a disbelieving look, and Tony grins. “And before you ask, it was Pepper’s idea.”

 

And then there are people bearing down on them, and Bruce can do nothing more than follow in Tony’s wake, smiling and shaking hands as Tony introduces him.

 

Bruce doesn’t even try to remember names. It’s unlikely he’ll ever meet them again, and it’s all a blur anyway.

 

Tony keeps him close, though—always with a hand on Bruce’s elbow or shoulder or back. That’s what Bruce focuses on, instead of the press of people, the bright lights, the warmth of the room and the overwhelming mixture of perfumes and colognes.

 

The collar of his shirt feels a little too tight, and Tony squeezes Bruce’s shoulder and leads them to a corner where Bruce can catch his breath.

 

“Okay?” Tony asks in a low voice.

 

Bruce nods. “Okay.” He frowns. “What is this all for? I never asked.”

 

Tony grins at him. “It’s an innovator award. I’m apparently being honored for the arc reactor powering Stark Tower.”

 

“That’s why Pepper made you come,” Bruce says with dawning realization.

 

Tony shrugs. “There’s a certain amount of publicity around these things, and it’s all positive.”

 

“As long as you don’t get into trouble,” Bruce replies with a sly grin.

 

“That’s why you’re here.” Tony straightens. “Ready?”

 

Bruce takes a deep breath. “Yeah.”

 

 _Once more into the breach_ , he thinks.

 

They start making their way towards the table nearest the podium, stopping to greet various people as they do.

 

Suddenly, Tony tenses, squeezing Bruce’s arm. “Bruce, I need you to stay calm.”

 

“What is it?” Bruce asks, beginning to look for the threat.

 

“General Ross on your right, and heading straight for us,” Tony warns.

 

Bruce feels a familiar panic rise up, and he looks for the nearest exit.

 

“Bruce, look at me,” Tony demands.

 

His heart races, adrenalin rushes through him, and Bruce wonders how fast he can get through the crowd.

 

“ _Look at me,_ ” Tony repeats, a note of command in his voice that has Bruce obeying. “You’re with me, remember? Let me handle this. I promise you, Ross hates me a hell of a lot more than he hates you.”

 

Bruce feels a welling despair. “Tony—” He doesn’t want to leave, but Tony can’t protect him forever.

 

“Remember what I said about strutting?” Tony asks. “This is why. Trust me.”

 

Tony’s grip anchors him, and Bruce nods, going along with it, because he can do nothing else. Ross is nearly upon them, and Bruce doesn’t think he’d make an attempt to capture Bruce here, when he’d be risking the lives of so many important people.

 

Bruce nods, but adds, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

 

Tony smiles, his eyes glittering. “I’m Iron Man, remember? And I’m Tony Stark. Ross doesn’t have a prayer of taking what’s mine.”

 

Bruce doesn’t have time to think about the implications of that statement before Ross is right there, mustache bristling with outrage.

 

“I didn’t think Fury was letting you out of your cage,” Ross sneers.

 

Tony steps between them, shielding Bruce from Ross’ glare. “I thought they’d retired you,” he says. “I heard the Army was getting rid of all its obsolete equipment.”

 

Ross bristles, his attention diverted. “ _You_ ,” he says, and Bruce realizes that Tony was right—Ross _does_ hate him more. “I’m looking forward to the day they make you turn over your suit to the proper authorities.”

 

Tony smiles coldly. “The proper authorities? Like the people who tried to bomb Manhattan? I’m an international hero, General. You can’t touch me without causing a worldwide uproar.”

 

Ross looks over Tony’s shoulder at Bruce. “You can’t say the same for your friend there. Not even SHIELD can protect him forever.”

 

Bruce feels his stomach clench in fear, and Tony’s hand closes over Bruce’s wrist in a tight grip.

 

“Remember that bar?” Tony asks casually, his smile hardening just a bit, although he still retains the thin veneer of civility. “Your favorite? The one that isn’t there anymore?”

 

Ross turns a deep red at the reference, although Bruce doesn’t get it; he stays silent.

 

“That bar could just be the beginning,” Tony continues, his smile never wavering. “You go after Bruce, you go after me. You can’t make him disappear without a ripple anymore. I’ve gone toe-to-toe with the Senate and won. Who do you think is going to win that PR war?”

 

Ross glowers, but eventually huffs out a breath, managing a curt nod before stalking off.

 

Bruce lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, grateful that his control has held through the tension.

 

“You need a drink,” Tony says, leading him toward their table.

 

Bruce can’t disagree. “You can’t promise anything.”

 

“I can promise you the same protection Steve or any of the others would get,” Tony replies fiercely. “You’re no more property of the Army than I am, and I will do whatever it takes to prove that. The entire world will agree with me.”

 

“I’m dangerous,” Bruce argues half-heartedly.

 

“No more dangerous than I am,” Tony replies, leading Bruce to a chair. “Sit.”

 

Bruce breathes deeply. “What was that about the bar?”

 

“I was sent to piss Ross off, and I did.” Tony signals one of the wait staff, and orders two martinis. “I did so very thoroughly, in fact.”

 

The fear is beginning to drain away. “And the bar?”

 

“It’s where I met him,” Tony explains with a mischievous grin. “He was angry enough to try to have me thrown out, so I bought the place and had it demolished. Like I said, he hates me far more than he hates you.”

 

Bruce laughs appreciatively. “That would certainly do it.”

 

Tony’s face darkens. “Plus, we had a run-in over a small conflict in Africa.”

 

The silence sits comfortably between them until their martinis arrive, and Bruce says, “You can’t protect me forever.”

 

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Tony says. “I told you, Bruce. I can make it impossible for anyone to come after you without drawing a lot of unwanted attention. People like Ross rely on the darkness to shield them. Why do you think I told everyone I was Iron Man?”

 

“Because you liked the spotlight?”

 

Tony smiles ruefully. “That and because I could control things a little better this way. They can’t come after me if the whole world is watching.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “You shouldn’t put yourself out on a limb for me.”

 

Tony smiles, his expression gentle and rueful all at once. “If anyone’s on a limb, it’s him. I’ve got your back, Bruce.”

 

“Okay,” he agrees, because he can’t do anything else. He wants to keep this, and apparently Tony wants to keep him, and he’s grateful for the backup.

 

Tony maintains contact with Bruce for the rest of the evening, except for the short period of time when he has to go up to accept his award for innovation of the arc reactor. Even then, he keeps catching Bruce’s eyes, and when he says, “I want to thank Pepper, who’s somehow kept me on an even keel through everything, and Bruce, who pushes me to do better,” Bruce feels a warm flush of pleasure that replaces the adrenalin-fueled fear that had flooded him earlier at the sight of Ross.

 

Tony sits back down next to Bruce, setting his award down between them, and then he leans in close to whisper in Bruce’s ear, “Next time, it will be both of us.”

 

Bruce doesn’t know that he believes Tony, but when Tony’s hand lands on his knee, he doesn’t object. In fact, he puts his hand on Tony’s and hangs on.

 

**9.**

 

Steve turns up the next day, a copy of the _New York Post_ in hand, wearing a bemused expression. Tony isn’t awake yet, but Bruce is sipping coffee and reading _Scientific American_ , which counts as light reading for him.

 

(Tony likes to scoff, but then he objects to anything he views as “dumbed down” for the masses. Bruce enjoys reading the articles to get a glimpse into fields other than his own, and he appreciates the opportunity not to think real hard.)

 

“The building let me in,” Steve explains a little awkwardly when Bruce looks up in surprise. “Good to see you again.”

 

Bruce shakes his hand; Steve’s grip is warm and dry and strong. “Same here,” Bruce replies. “Thanks for what you said.”

 

“You just needed a reason to come back,” Steve replies. “It makes sense.”

 

Bruce shrugs and asks, “What brings you by?”

 

“An article I read, actually. Fury woke me up this morning with the news.” Steve puts his paper down, opens it, and taps the headline.

 

Bruce’s eyebrows go up as he reads it: _Stark Linked to Bruce Banner—Was Potts a Beard?_

 

“Well, that’s a little reactionary,” Bruce says mildly.

 

Steve frowns. “So, it’s not true?”

 

Bruce shrugs. “Do you believe everything you read in the paper?”

 

Steve sits down. “Fury seems to think this is a publicity stunt of some kind on Tony’s part.”

 

“If by ‘stunt,’ he means a way to prevent the Army from going after Bruce, that’s exactly what it is,” Tony says as he enters the room. “Steve, nice to see you as always.”

 

“Tony,” Steve replies evenly.

 

“I see you’re still doing Fury’s dirty work,” Tony says.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “Tony, it’s okay.”

 

“It’s not okay,” Tony replies. “Because it’s none of his business. He used me, and he wants to use you.”

 

Bruce suspects Tony’s never going to get over Fury’s deception, and he’s certainly never going to trust SHIELD.

 

For Bruce’s part, he’s never going to forget that cage. He understands why Fury felt the need to build it, but it’s hard to trust someone who had every intention of dropping him from 30,000 feet if it became necessary.

 

And Fury would decide when it’s necessary. Bruce doesn’t trust Fury with that, and he doesn’t trust Fury to hold the Other Guy.

 

That’s the paradox of the Other Guy, Bruce thinks. He can be harnessed but not controlled, and Bruce doesn’t think he can be killed. He’ll do as he pleases, but he’ll follow those he likes, or those Bruce likes.

 

“I’m mostly here to see if you guys are okay,” Steve says mildly. “And I like Pepper.”

 

“It was mostly her idea,” Tony insists, sounding half-sulky, half-defiant. “But in any case, I’m not going to discuss my sex life with you, no matter who I sleep with.”

 

Steve nods. “All right.”

 

“What are you going to tell Fury?” Bruce asks curiously.

 

Steve shrugs. “That it was a typical Tony Stark PR stunt.” And he smiles, a hint of devilry in his expression. “He doesn’t need to know anything different.”

 

Some of the tension drains out of Tony at that point. “You’re being remarkably progressive, Steve.”

 

Steve shrugs, and catches Bruce’s gaze. “From what I can see, Dr. Banner is looking remarkably relaxed. I think we all want to keep it that way.”

 

Bruce chuckles, and Tony pours a cup of coffee, and then he wanders down to his workshop, leaving Bruce and Steve alone.

 

“You seem pretty okay with this,” Bruce observes.

 

Steve gives him a sharp look. “I’m not a square, you know. What you guys do off the clock is your own business. But we still have to work as a team, and I want to be sure that’s not jeopardized.”

 

“And you like Pepper,” Bruce says, reading between the lines.

 

“And I like Pepper,” Steve confirms.

 

Bruce hesitates for a minute, and then he says, “I don’t know. I’m happy here. I’ve got work I like, and people I like, and I haven’t had an incident since the battle. Maybe that’s enough.”

 

“Maybe it is,” Steve agrees. “You look happier.”

 

“I think I am.”

 

“That’s all I need to know.”

 

Steve’s steady gaze convinces Bruce that he means exactly what he says, and Bruce remembers suddenly that Steve had also been “Cap,” the guy who called the shots in the battle for Manhattan.

 

The Other Guy had followed his direction, but Bruce had been out of it at the time, and he thinks it might be a good idea to get to know him now.

 

“Do you have any plans for the day?” Bruce asks.

 

Steve smiles uncertainly. “Well, I had been planning on going to MOMA since I have the afternoon off. They have a bunch of exhibits I haven’t seen yet.”

 

“Do you mind if I go with you?” Bruce asks.

 

Surprise, and then pleasure, enters Steve’s eyes. “No, not at all.”

 

~~~~~

 

Bruce has a good time with Steve, whom it turns out had spent some time in art school. As much as he likes Tony—and Bruce likes him more than he cares to admit—he knows it’s a good idea to spend time with other people, to remind himself that the rest of the world still exists.

 

“You’d think Tony was keeping you chained to your lab, other than last night,” Steve observes as they wander around MOMA.

 

Bruce smiles. “I’m busy. There’s nothing sinister about it.”

 

Steve nods. “You guys get along really well.”

 

Bruce isn’t sure where Steve is going with this, so he shrugs and doesn’t respond.

 

“Do you think he’ll ever cut me the same kind of slack?” Steve asks wistfully.

 

Bruce remembers what Tony had said on the helicarrier, about his dad talking about Captain America all the time, his tone disbelieving. From what Bruce has gathered, Tony hadn’t had the best relationship with his father—not that he ever talks about Howard Stark, but Bruce has learned to read between the lines.

 

After all, he doesn’t talk about his parents either.

 

“Tony’s dad was a good friend of yours, wasn’t he?” Bruce asks instead of answering the question.

 

Steve nods. “One of my best friends.”

 

Bruce feels sorry for the guy. He’s been alone enough in the last few years to know what it’s like, although he can barely imagine waking up to find that the whole world had changed and passed him by, that everyone he’d known was dead.

 

Bruce has Tony and Pepper, two more people than Steve has.

 

“I don’t think you see each other,” Bruce finally says diplomatically. “You both see Tony’s dad.”

 

“Is that such a bad thing?” Steve asks.

 

“It’s going to take a while,” Bruce replies.

 

Steve frowns. “How is it ever going to get any better if Tony won’t spend time with me?”

 

“You could come over more often,” Bruce offers.

 

“Does he really want that?”

 

“If you show up often enough, Tony might start seeing you instead of the guy his dad talked about,” Bruce says reasonably.

 

Steve nods slowly, staring at the Van Gogh hanging in front of him. “Thanks for coming with me today.”

 

“Anytime,” Bruce replies, meaning it. “I need to get out of the lab once in a while.”

 

He parts ways with Steve on the steps of MOMA and takes the subway back to Stark Tower. He’s surrounded by people but feels strangely alone. Being with Steve has reminded him of the long lonely years between taking the serum and the battle over Manhattan.

 

He knows now that he won’t leave, that he’ll stay as long as Tony will have him. He won’t go back to that life unless he has to.

 

When Bruce enters Tony’s workshop, Tony glances at him, his expression disgruntled. “So, you’re back.”

 

“I texted you,” Bruce replies.

 

“Art beat science today, huh?” His tone is definitely sour, and Bruce suspects that Tony’s a little jealous.

 

Bruce just takes a seat next to Tony. “I was thinking I might stay a little longer.”

 

Tony glances over at him. “How much longer?”

 

“Why put a date on it?” Bruce asks.

 

When Tony meets his eyes, Bruce sees a hint of longing, and maybe vulnerability that seems out of place in on Tony’s face. “So, indefinitely then,” Tony says, managing to keep his tone light.

 

Bruce shrugs. “I’ve got a lot of work here.”

 

“That’s right you do,” Tony replies, trying for a stern expression but not quite managing it. “No skipping out on it.”

 

“I always finish what I start,” Bruce replies. “You were saying something about a trip to Malibu?”

 

“I wasn’t sure you still wanted to go.”

 

“You had me at particle accelerator,” Bruce replies, and then gives into the urge to wrap an arm around Tony’s shoulders. “I’m with you.”

 

Tony leans into Bruce just slightly. “Day after tomorrow,” he says.

 

“Works for me,” Bruce replies. “Now, show me what you’ve got.”

 

**10.**

 

The trip to Malibu could have been incredibly tedious, but Bruce is with Tony on one hand, and he’s not flying commercial on the other. There’s no security, no waiting in line, and there are other people to handle their baggage.

 

They work for the first half of the flight, shooting plans for the new, bigger arc reactor back and forth between their Stark pads, correcting each other’s mistakes and improving upon the design.

 

Bruce falls asleep at one point, waiting for Tony to send the designs back to him, and is out for the remainder of the flight.

 

He’s a little surprised when Tony shakes him awake gently. “Hey, we’re here,” Tony says. “You okay?”

 

“I’m awake,” Bruce insists half-heartedly. “Where are we?”

 

“LAX,” Tony replies. “We’ve got a drive to Malibu, and I’ve got you.”

 

Bruce nods sleepily. “That’s good.”

 

The waiting convertible says _Stark_ all over it, since it’s the latest model, sleek and cherry red. Some young kid puts their bags in Tony’s trunk, and Bruce tries not to think about how old that makes him. Everyone looks like a kid these days.

 

It’s a good thing Tony is driving, because Bruce hasn’t been behind the wheel of a car in far too long, and he doesn’t trust himself.

 

The sun is just beginning its descent, turning the sky orange and pink. The warm breeze wakes him up, and Tony glances over at him with a smile. “You all right?”

 

“Yeah,” Bruce replies. “I had no idea I was that tired.”

 

“You’re only mortal,” Tony replies.

 

“Unlike you,” Bruce teases.

 

Tony shrugs. “I’ve never needed more than a few hours of sleep. You hungry?”

 

They stop by an In-N-Out Burger and eat in the car, licking their fingers clean of grease and salt, before continuing on to the house, which is palatial.

 

Bruce doesn’t think he’s ever going to get used to this—the amount of money Tony has is almost obscene.

 

“There you are,” Pepper says. “I was beginning to wonder.”

 

“We had to stop for food,” Tony explains.

 

Bruce doesn’t bother looking away when they kiss; it happens in front of him often enough that he’s stopped minding.

 

Pepper greets him next, kissing him lightly on the mouth. “It’s good to see you.”

 

“You too,” Bruce replies, meaning it.

 

“Let me show you your room before Tony drags you down to the workshop,” Pepper says with a smile, taking Bruce’s arm.

 

Tony rolls his eyes. “I’ll just fix the drinks,” he calls after them.

 

“I saw the papers,” Pepper observes as she leads him down the hallway.

 

“Tony said it was your idea.”

 

“It sends a message,” Pepper replies.

 

“And that would be?”

 

“That the Army will have to go through Stark Industries to get to you,” Pepper says. “It’s a better guarantee than SHIELD can give.”

 

Bruce raises his eyebrows. “And you don’t mind?”

 

“It keeps the mystery going, and there are times it’s helpful for people to think we’re not together, or that our relationship is a little more off than on.” Pepper squeezes his arm. “I hope you don’t mind.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “No, whatever I can do. It’s kind of flattering to think people I’m with Tony, to be honest.”

 

Pepper laughs. “Isn’t it?”

 

The rest of the evening passes pleasantly, with Bruce getting slightly buzzed on the scotch Tony keeps pouring for him.

 

When he falls into bed, warm and loose, he thinks it odd that this place feels as much like home as Stark Tower does, probably because Tony and Pepper are just down the hall.

 

**11.**

 

They stay in California for a week, long enough for Pepper to finish her negotiations and get through all her meetings. At Pepper’s insistence, the three of them go out several times and ignore the paparazzi who take their photos.

 

After the first night, the gossip rags are ablaze with rumors that Tony and Pepper have broken up, and Tony is sleeping with Bruce. There are rumors that Pepper is sleeping with Bruce. And then there’s the rumor that Bruce is sleeping with both of them.

 

Considering how long it’s been since Bruce has slept with anyone, he’s rather amused by it all.

 

And he’s beginning to understand the point—the Army is going to have a hard time making him disappear if his picture is on the front page of every gossip rag in the supermarket.

 

Fury calls halfway through the week and asks Tony what the fuck he’s doing. “Banner is supposed to be laying low!” he roars.

 

“I don’t remember that conversation,” Tony replies coolly, having put Fury on speaker in the workshop.

 

“After the battle?” Fury asks. “I said to let us handle the press.”

 

“And we did,” Tony replies. “But you know as well as I do that Ross still wants to get his hands on Bruce. I’m protecting my investment.”

 

Bruce gives Tony a dirty look. “I don’t belong to you, either,” he says.

 

Tony smirks at him.

 

“Is that Banner?” Fury asks.

 

“All I did was go out to dinner a couple of times,” Bruce points out. “As an employee of Stark Industries, I thought it prudent to maintain a good working relationship with my bosses.”

 

He keeps his voice perfectly even, and perfectly respectful, and Bruce is certain he can hear Fury grinding his teeth.

 

“You realize that there are people calling for your head for breaking up America’s top power couple, don’t you?” Fury demands.

 

Tony smiles. “Since Pepper and I haven’t broken up, that’s not exactly an issue. Give it a couple of weeks, and when the press sees that we’re still going about business as usual, they’ll find a new story.”

 

Fury sighs. “I know what you’re doing, and I can’t say I disagree with your intentions. Just be careful. The last thing we need is for Banner to become a target. The fallout could be enormous.”

 

“No worse than if someone had tried to mug him in Kolkata,” Tony counters. “We’re busy now. You’ll have to call later if you want to talk to us.”

 

Tony ends the call, and Bruce feels the need to reiterate, “I’m not an investment.”

 

“Sure you are,” Tony counters. “Pepper would agree with me. People are our most important investment, and I’d like to keep you around a long time.”

 

“I guess that works out for both of us, then.”

 

And then they go back to work.

 

~~~~~

 

They fly back to New York a couple of days later, and Bruce settles back into his routine. Pepper is staying in Manhattan for the time being, and Bruce bows to her expertise in media management when she sets up a series of carefully arranged outings.

 

Bruce goes out to brunch with Pepper, and then for sushi with Tony. Tony and Pepper go out on a date to a very romantic dinner at one of the most expensive restaurants in Manhattan, and then Bruce accompanies Steve on a trip to New York Presbyterian Hospital to visit sick kids.

 

“How did Pepper rope you into this?” Bruce asks in a low voice as the cameras snap their picture.

 

Steve shrugs. “It’s for a good cause—on both fronts.”

 

“How much did Pepper tell you?” Bruce asks.

 

“Enough,” Steve replies. “I wanted to help.”

 

Steve is good with the kids, gently teasing them. Bruce is surprised when one little boy, Kevin, asks him, “Are you the Hulk?”

 

“I guess I am,” Bruce replies. “Sometimes, anyway.”

 

“Can I see?” he asks hopefully.

 

Bruce smiles. “I think that would probably cause a lot more damage than anybody wants.”

 

Kevin smiles wistfully. “Sometimes I want to smash things.”

 

“Yeah, me too,” Bruce agrees. He brushes dark blond hair off Kevin’s forehead. He’d glanced at the chart at the foot of his bed, and knows that if Kevin doesn’t get a kidney transplant soon, he won’t make it. “It’s okay to be angry, you know. You just have to channel that into getting better.”

 

Kevin’s mother gives Bruce a grateful look, and then Steve joins Bruce, shaking Kevin’s hand gravely. “It’s nice to meet you, Kevin,” Steve says. “You hang in there.”

 

When they’re done, Bruce is exhausted, but it’s a good kind of tired. “You should come back to the Tower,” he invites.

 

Steve shakes his head. “I don’t want to intrude.”

 

“You want to get along better with Tony? You’ve got to spend time with him,” Bruce reasons. “Pepper will be there, too. Between the two of us, we’ll keep Tony from disappearing into his lab.” Bruce pauses. “Just—don’t mention Tony’s dad.”

 

Steve nods, his expression earnest and determined. “Right. Any other advice?”

 

“Be yourself,” Bruce advises. “And ask Tony for help with something technological.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“If you give Tony a chance to teach you something, that will help smooth things over,” Bruce assures him.

 

Tony does appear a little disgruntled when Steve trails Bruce into the living quarters of Stark Tower, but Pepper greets him warmly. “Steve. It’s so good to see you.”

 

“You too,” Steve replies, blushing slightly. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping in.”

 

“Not at all,” Pepper assures him. “There’s plenty of food for everybody.”

 

Tony frowns, but he doesn’t object, and Steve says smoothly, “I was actually hoping to talk to Tony tonight. The phone SHIELD assigned me doesn’t seem to be working all that well.”

 

Tony shoots a suspicious look at Bruce, but he shrugs. “I’ll take a look at it after we eat.”

 

After dinner—Chinese takeout—Pepper and Bruce retreat and leave Tony and Steve to the lesson on phone use and maintenance.

 

“Your work, I assume,” Pepper says, wrapping her hands around a mug of chamomile tea, steam rising up from the surface.

 

Bruce shrugs. “Steve doesn’t have anybody. I thought this might help. You were the one who arranged the visit to the hospital.”

 

“I knew I could trust the two of you,” Pepper counters. “Tony’s actually pretty good with kids, but he’s inclined to build toys that have destructive powers. And since Stark Industries has made several sizeable donations, it makes sense that we’d send one of our employees.”

 

Bruce looks at her incredulously. “You do all of this?”

 

“I have an army of well-chosen personal assistants,” Pepper replies. “But when it comes to you and Tony, I take a personal interest.”

 

“Why me?” Bruce asks. “Why would you do any of this?”

 

Pepper smiles, and her expression holds an edge of sadness. “Oh, Bruce. Do you really have to ask?”

 

Heat rises to his face, and he has no idea how to respond to her, because she’s kind and beautiful and Tony’s, and his feelings towards her and Tony are complicated at best.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Pepper says, when Bruce doesn’t immediately reply. “We want to help, and so we are. That’s all you need to know.”

 

She hugs him then, her forehead pressing against his cheek, and Bruce takes a deep breath, smelling her light perfume and floral shampoo.

 

“We should make sure that Tony and Steve haven’t killed each other,” she says lightly, and when they go out to the living room, Tony is still teaching Steve the finer points of using a Stark Phone.

 

It turns out that Bruce was right; giving Tony a chance to teach Steve something is the best sort of icebreaker, and they actually part amicably.

 

But Bruce thinks about Pepper’s words until he falls asleep that night, trying to parse their meaning. He feels like he’s missing something, like the answers to all his questions are _right there_ , but he can’t quite grasp them.

 

When he dreams that night, it’s of things he wants that are just out of reach.

 

**12.**

 

Bruce sees the fruits of Pepper’s labor (what he thinks of as Operation Confuse the Hell Out of Everyone—Including Him) after the next battle requiring the services of the Other Guy.

 

Tony gets a call from Fury, who tells him they’ve got a mad scientist on their hands with an army of robots, and orders him to bring Bruce along when he sends the Quinjet to pick them up.

 

“You didn’t say please,” Tony counters, but Jarvis has already started the protocols to activate the Mark VII.

 

Fury growls, “If you would be so kind,” and sarcasm drips off his words.

 

Tony smirks. Clearly, that’s the reaction he’d been going for. “Don’t mind if I do. Bruce is with me.”

 

Fury mutters something that sounds a lot like “wonder twins” and hangs up.

 

“It’s been far too long since I got to take the suit out for a spin,” Tony says with barely concealed glee. “Come on.”

 

Bruce spares a thought of his clothes—he’s wearing one of his favorite shirts—and sighs.

 

Tony grins at him. “I’ll buy you another.”

 

“Another what?”

 

“Another shirt,” Tony says. “That’s your favorite, right?”

 

Bruce doesn’t even bother asking how Tony knows that. “Yeah, it is.”

 

“Jarvis?”

 

“Already done, sir,” Jarvis says smoothly.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “Thanks.”

 

Tony’s suited up by the time the Quinjet arrives, with Clint piloting. “Dr. Banner, Mr. Stark,” he says, the curl of his mouth making it slightly mocking.

 

“Hawkeye,” Tony replies, his voice muffled slightly by the helmet, his tone just as mocking. “Natasha, always a pleasure.”

 

She turns from her position in the co-pilot’s seat and nods. “Tony, Dr. Banner. Good to see you again.”

 

Her voice is perfectly even, and Bruce wonders if being in a confined space with him fazes her at all.

 

“Hey,” Steve says, from his spot on the bench behind Natasha. He’s already wearing his uniform, the mask pulled up, and he looks incredibly imposing, even though he probably shouldn’t.

 

He’s not just Steve like this—he’s Captain America, and Bruce is having a hard time figuring out where he fits in this group.

 

Bruce feels as though he’s surrounded by giants, and he’s only there because of what lives inside him, but he’s making peace with that fact. He’d rather be here than anywhere else.

 

By the time they arrive in Washington, D.C., it’s clear that Bruce’s presence is a necessity. There are half a dozen large metallic spiders, each one more than a match for any one of them, except possibly the Other Guy.

 

“Time to suit up,” Tony tells him, looking out the windscreen. “We’re going to need Jolly Green.”

 

Bruce is the first one out of the Quinjet, and doesn’t have any trouble calling up the anger that’s his constant companion, even these days. It’s a fainter thrum than it’s been at other points, and more easily controlled, but still there.

 

His world erupts in green, and that’s all he knows until there’s nothing at all.

 

~~~~~

 

Waking up after a transformation is often difficult, but this time Bruce feels as though he’s dragging himself back up to consciousness. His thoughts are fuzzy, his mouth is dry as a bone—and his skin feels as though it’s on fire.

 

He’s lying on his stomach on a soft surface, naked, and he groans and tries to shift, sending fresh pain along his back and arms and legs.

 

“Easy,” Tony’s voice cautions him. “Don’t try to move just yet.”

 

Bruce coughs, his mouth too dry to manage words.

 

“Here.”

 

He blinks open gummy eyes and sees a straw near his mouth. Rolling slightly, he sips slowly. “What happened?” he asks, trying again.

 

“It turns out that our mad scientist didn’t just have robots, he also had a death ray,” Tony replies, his fingers carding through Bruce’s hair. “He was aiming at Steve—who says thank you, by the way—and you got between them. You’re the only one who could have survived it.”

 

Bruce doesn’t bother correcting Tony’s pronoun usage. “I didn’t think anything could hurt the Other Guy.”

 

“None of us did,” Tony says, scratching Bruce’s scalp, giving him something else to focus on other than his burning skin. “You’ve got second degree burns over most of your back, and parts of your arms and legs. You—the Other Guy—was pretty pissed off. We couldn’t calm him down.”

 

Bruce suddenly knows what they had to do. “Clint?”

 

“Yeah, one of the special arrows. Well, two, actually.” Tony pulls his hand back, and Bruce feels the loss keenly. He closes his eyes and braces himself against the pain, feeling the anger as an answering rumble in his head. “Easy. This is just water and aloe. We can’t risk another painkiller so soon after the sedative.”

 

Bruce feels a cool, wet cloth sponge over the burning skin of his back, and he lets out an appreciative groan.

 

“The doctor came to look at you, but he said you’ll be fine. He has no idea how long it will take you to heal, but you will.” Tony’s voice is rough, almost angry, but his hands are gentle, and the aloe soothes the burn slightly.

 

Bruce frowns, unable to see much of Tony from this position. “You okay?”

 

“Don’t ask me that,” Tony orders. “Just—don’t.”

 

“Tony?”

 

“Sorry,” Tony says, leaning down so Bruce can see his expression. “I’d just gotten used to the idea that you were invincible.”

 

Bruce lets out a dry chuckle. “So had I.”

 

“You can’t do that to me again,” Tony insists.

 

“I’ll do my best.” Bruce sighs as Tony continues to sponge him down gently. “How bad was the damage?”

 

“From the Other Guy? Nothing worth talking about,” Tony replies. “He—you—took out four of the robots before our mad scientist tried to hit Steve with his death ray.”

 

“And the scientist?” Bruce asks.

 

“Pulped,” Tony says, sounding grimly satisfied.

 

“The Other Guy?”

 

“Clint wasn’t as quick on the draw as he probably could have been,” Tony admits. “But then, we didn’t realize he’d even been hurt.”

 

“How many dead?” Bruce asks, needing to know.

 

Tony huffs. “None you’re responsible for.”

 

“Except the scientist,” Bruce counters. “I don’t even know his name.”

 

Tony’s hand is in his hair again. “I’m inclined to make an exception in this case, and his name was Arnold Arnolds.”

 

Bruce laughs and then groans as a fresh wave of pain hits him. “Poor bastard.”

 

“You can feel sorry for him,” Tony replies. “I don’t think I’m there yet.”

 

Bruce sleeps again after that, and when he wakes up, Pepper’s sitting next to him. “I kicked Tony out,” she says as Bruce stirs and hisses at the pain. “He was getting antsy.”

 

“I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did,” Bruce replies.

 

Pepper reaches out to smooth his hair. “Are you hungry?”

 

His stomach rumbles in response. “I guess I am.”

 

“Do you need help sitting up?” she asks.

 

He’s still naked, but Bruce isn’t sure he’s going to be okay with cloth on his skin at the moment, and he’s in enough pain that he’s not sure he cares. “I think I’ve got it.” He struggles slowly to a sitting position, the burned skin feeling hot and tight, and drags the sheet over his lap.

 

Pepper has apparently brought a tray with her, waiting for him to wake up, because she has a plate of fruit, good bread, cheese, and salami.

 

Bruce eats slowly, sitting in companionable silence with Pepper, who’s reading something on her Stark pad.

 

“Is Tony okay?” he asks as he slows down from his single-minded eating.

 

Pepper glances up. “Not a scratch on him,” she assures Bruce. “No one was hurt, other than you.”

 

Bruce chews thoughtfully. “Is Tony going to forgive me any time soon?”

 

“It’s not you he’s mad at,” Pepper replies. “He just didn’t like being reminded that you’re human.”

 

“Not entirely,” Bruce jokes, but it’s a weak effort on his part. “Are you okay?”

 

Pepper strokes his cheek. “I’m much better now.”

 

Bruce leans into her touch. Her hand feels cool on his face.

 

“Do you think a cool shower will help?” she asks.

 

“Maybe,” Bruce allows. “Thanks.”

 

“I’ll grab some clothes for you,” Pepper replies.

 

Jarvis keeps the spray a gentle, cool mist, and Bruce soaps up the parts that aren’t burnt to a crisp, washing off the sweat and grime of a few days gone past. He dries off as best he can and pulls on the pair of silk boxers that Pepper had apparently left on the sink.

 

Pepper is still there when he emerges from the bathroom, and she says, “Lay down. I’ll put more aloe on.”

 

“You don’t have to,” Bruce replies a little awkwardly.

 

Pepper fixes him with a look. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

 

Bruce gives up at that point, lying down on his stomach.

 

She layers on the aloe cream, and it eases the burn. “Is this okay?”

 

Bruce is grateful that he’s lying on his stomach. He’s less likely to give himself away. “It feels good,” he says honestly.

 

“Good,” she says. “Let me know if you want a painkiller. I think the doctor left something for you.”

 

Bruce doesn’t want to move, and that’s how he falls asleep. Again.

 

~~~~~

 

He improves fairly rapidly over the next couple of days, although he sleeps a lot. Either Pepper or Tony is there every time he wakes, with food and aloe cream.

 

A couple of days later, he’s feeling well enough to leave the bedroom wearing silk pajama pants and a silk robe. Steve turns up that afternoon, looking apologetic and carrying a newspaper.

 

“Thanks,” he says as soon as he spies Bruce.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “I didn’t do anything.”

 

“Well, I can’t exactly thank your other half,” Steve counters. “And you did save my life.”

 

Bruce nods as graciously as he can, realizing that Steve needs to say it. “I’m just glad I could help.”

 

Steve smiles. “Fury wants to hire Pepper, you know.”

 

“Why?”

 

He tosses the paper on the counter. “This was the headline after the battle.”

 

Bruce reads, “HULK SAVES CAPTAIN AMERICA!” all in caps. The text below reads, _The quiet, unassuming Dr. Bruce Banner holds a secret. He’s been linked to Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, and is clearly friends with both. Now, he’s saved the life of none other than Captain America. Is he our newest hero?_

 

Bruce blinks. “Are they serious?”

 

“It’s all over the news,” Steve confirms, “and everybody is saying basically the same thing. They all love the Hulk.”

 

Bruce snorts. “Until he breaks Harlem again.”

 

“Weren’t you going after someone the Army created?” Steve counters.

 

Bruce shifts uncomfortably; he’s too used to people assigning blame to him, or the Other Guy. “Like they care.”

 

“Well, now they do,” Steve says reasonably. “Anyway, Fury says it’s the best PR campaign he’s ever seen. He wants to hire her.”

 

Bruce smiles. “I doubt he can pay her enough.”

 

“That’s what I said,” Steve replies. “I don’t know if Tony told you this, but they found the bodies of three people that Arnolds tested his death ray on, and that’s just the ones we know about. The way they died—it was pretty fucking terrible.” Bruce is a little surprised at Steve’s swearing, but it reiterates his seriousness. “That’s how I would have died if it hadn’t been for you.”

 

Bruce can suddenly feel it, the sense memory of shielding Steve’s body with his own, folding his arms around Steve, green and mostly impervious. He remembers— _blue light, red and gold, green haze, a protective shield around the fragile leader who orders him to smash_.

 

“It was my pleasure,” Bruce says honestly.

 

Tony wanders into the room nonchalantly, but Bruce knows Jarvis has been feeding him information when he says, “You can’t have Pepper.”

 

Steve smiles, one side of his mouth curling up. “I wouldn’t presume.”

 

Tony gives him a hard look. “You wouldn’t.”

 

“Fury might,” Steve says. “But no. I wouldn’t.”

 

“Let’s see the headline,” Tony replies, and leans over the counter to read the headline, and then the first few sentences of the article. “Well, the press got something right.”

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Which part is that?”

 

“The part about having a new hero,” Tony replies, meeting Bruce’s eyes. “Welcome to the club, Dr. Banner.”

 

Bruce sees nothing but truth in Tony’s eyes, and when he looks at Steve, he sees confirmation there as well.

 

He nods, with nothing more to say, and even the still-present burn of his skin isn’t enough to make him regret his actions.

 

These days, Bruce walks among heroes; he’s beginning to think he might actually belong there.

 

**13.**

 

There’s a subtle shift after that. Bruce can’t quite put his finger on what it is, but it’s there in the way Tony invades his space even more, in how Pepper often joins them when they’re in Tony’s lab, propping her feet on Bruce’s thigh, leaning against his shoulder.

 

Steve drops by more often, and he and Tony manage to be civil to each other most of the time. Clint and Natasha even stop by when they’re in town to make up for the dinner they missed after the last big fight, when Bruce had been burned.

 

Three months have come and gone, and Bruce is happier than he can remember being in a long time.

 

And if there’s still something missing, Bruce can’t quite put his finger on what it is, but he tells himself it doesn’t matter.

 

He’s got more than he knows what to do with most days, and that has to be enough.

 

**14.**

 

The final straw comes without Bruce knowing, when he’s not even expecting it. He publishes a paper on gamma radiation, and another co-written with Tony on the arc reactor, and a third on his travels in India—although that one is for a magazine.

 

It’s the first that nets him an invitation to present at a physics convention in Los Angeles as one of the guests of honor. He’d been to a number of conferences in the past, but never as an honored guest. Tony wangles an invitation as well, although the organizer seems thrilled to have Tony there.

 

When Bruce drops his bags in their suite, he sees one king-size bed and a couch, and raises his eyebrows. “Just the one room?”

 

“You have a problem with that?” Tony asks.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “No, I guess not. I just wasn’t sure you’d want to share a bed with me.”

 

“And why wouldn’t I?” Tony asks.

 

Bruce blinks. “Ah…because you share one with Pepper?”

 

“Hm, yes, I suppose that does change things slightly. Still, Pepper trusts us.” Tony’s giving him that same sharp, intense look, like he’s measuring Bruce’s reaction, waiting for him to respond in the appropriate way.

 

Bruce feels as though he’s missing a huge clue and decides the best course of action is to change the subject. “I should review my notes,” he says slowly.

 

“Feel free to practice the speech on me,” Tony invites, sprawling on the pristine white duvet. “I don’t mind.”

 

“I don’t want to bore you,” Bruce protests.

 

Tony smiles and waves a hand to signal him to continue. “I’m going to play a heckler. By the time I’m through with you, you’ll be able to handle anything.”

 

Bruce doesn’t know whether that’s a promise or a threat. Still, he wants to go through his presentation at least once, and if Tony’s willing to help, Bruce will accept it gratefully.

 

“The applications of gamma radiation are far-reaching, and may open up opportunities that are not easily summarized,” Bruce begins.

 

Tony asks probing questions at various points, requesting clarification, or challenging Bruce’s conclusions. He’s not as harsh as he could be, but Bruce is grateful for the chance to refine his talk. When Bruce is done, Tony grins. “They’re going to love you.”

 

Bruce runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. My conclusions are more speculative than they usually like to see.”

 

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Bruce, _you’re_ the conclusion. Everybody here knows what gamma radiation can do. You’re here to present other possibilities.”

 

Bruce rubs his forehead. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

 

“You’re supposed to be strutting, remember?” Tony asks. “It’s worked so far.”

 

“Have you ever given a presentation in front of a bunch of scientists?” Bruce asks. “They can be a tough crowd.”

 

Tony smirks. “And they know you turn green and will smash anything in your way. How tough do you think they’ll be?”

 

Bruce winces. “I don’t want them to treat me any differently.”

 

“Welcome to my world,” Tony replies, his voice heavy with sympathy. “Look, the whole point of this exercise was to get people to look at us differently. Pepper’s actually lent a couple of people to help SHIELD on this issue, building good PR so we can do our jobs and protect the public, even if it means some property damage.”

 

“And right now, I’ve got that,” Bruce says heavily.

 

Tony smiles. “Now you’re getting it. Today, the world is your oyster. Tomorrow, they might start hunting you down again. The difference is, you’ve got people who will start World War III on your behalf.”

 

“I would really rather you didn’t,” Bruce says, sitting down next to Tony on the bed.

 

“Just a little war,” Tony teases. “Just enough to get you back. You saw the footage of my Senate hearing.”

 

Bruce grins, and then he laughs. “Yeah, I did.”

 

“If you want to prostitute yourself, you don’t have to go to the U.S. government,” Tony replies with a lascivious wink.

 

Bruce laughs a little, but then falls silent, sensing a seriousness in Tony’s expression. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says quietly.

 

Tony’s expression softens. “You hungry?”

 

Bruce is grateful for the change in subject. “Starving, actually.”

 

“Come on,” Tony says, throwing an arm over Bruce’s shoulders and pulling him close. “My treat.”

 

“When are you going to let me pay?” Bruce asks wryly.

 

“You get your first patent, and I’ll let you,” Tony says.

 

Dinner is as pleasant as it usually is, the conversation wide-ranging, the company welcome. If anyone had told Bruce a year ago that he’d be best friends with Tony Stark, and would be spending the bulk of his time with the man, he would have assumed they were crazy.

 

Now, they’re here, eating a couple of perfectly cooked steaks, in one of the best restaurants in L.A., one of those places where you have to make reservations months in advance, but that Tony gets within fifteen minutes of walking in the door.

 

Bruce may never get used to the privileges of wealth, but he can certainly appreciate the steak he’s eating right now, as well as the bottle of wine that Tony orders.

 

He’s a little tipsy by the time they leave the restaurant, although Tony shows no sign of intoxication—not surprising, given how much Tony drinks on a regular basis. And he’s tired and just tipsy enough when they get back to the hotel to strip down to his boxers and fall into bed, not caring that he’ll be sharing it.

 

When he wakes in the middle of the night to find Tony wrapped around him, Bruce considers extricating himself, and then decides he’s too comfortable to care. Tony’s unconscious, so what does it matter? And Tony had hinted that Pepper knew the room situation.

 

Tony’s up and about by the time Bruce wakes the next morning, just in time to shower and shave for his presentation. By now he’s grown used to the tailored clothes and in a way views them as armor—it’s a lot more difficult for people to ignore him when he’s sharply dressed.

 

That’s an irritating fact, but it’s not a new one, and Bruce is grateful that he can put up a good front

 

Tony adjusts Bruce’s tie before they head down. “When this is over, I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says.

 

Bruce frowns. “A good one?”

 

“Of course it’s a good one,” Tony scoffs, patting his chest. “If it were bad, I wouldn’t give you a chance to run away.”

 

Bruce laughs, even though he knows that’s exactly how Tony would operate. “I’m not running.”

 

“Good, because you have a speech to give.” Tony runs his hands over Bruce’s shoulders and down his arms, the touch lingering. “I’ll be waiting.”

 

It feels like a promise, and the buzz of anticipation wars with his nerves over speaking in public—or presenting a scientific paper—for the first time in years.

 

In the end, Bruce focuses on Tony, and on the promise made, and he gets through it, answering questions from the audience without stammering or stuttering, Tony’s admonition ringing in his head.

 

He’s strutting a bit maybe, but it feels good, and when he walks off-stage, the applause of his peers ringing in his ears, it’s with the knowledge that he’s done well.

 

There’s another speaker after Bruce before they break for lunch, and Bruce knows they can’t leave before then. Tony reaches over and captures Bruce’s hand in his own, surreptitiously flashing the victory sign.

 

Bruce knows that’s as much discretion as he’s going to get, and he squeezes Tony’s hand and doesn’t let go, the next speaker making as much sense as a bunch of static because he’s too high on adrenalin to pay much attention.

 

Finally, they break for lunch, and Tony hauls Bruce out of the room. Bruce is laughing a little bit because he can sense Tony’s single-minded purpose, and he suspects his surprise is right around the corner.

 

“You did great,” Tony says in an undertone as they break free of the worst of the crowd. “They were eating out of your hand.”

 

“At least until someone disproves one of my theories,” Bruce replies mildly, but he’s still pleased. “Then they’ll eat me alive.”

 

“You’ve still got your alter ego,” Tony counters, grinning at him.

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Come on, Tony, like that—”

 

He breaks off suddenly, his heart in his throat, as he spots a familiar face across the crowded room. Whatever thought Bruce might have had about avoiding Betty Ross is laid to rest when she catches his eye as she begins to work her way through the crowd.

 

“Bruce?” Tony asks urgently.

 

“It’s Betty,” he replies, uncertain as to whether that explanation will be enough, but apparently it is, because Tony pulls him back.

 

“You’ll want someplace a little more private for this,” Tony says, and tugs him into a deserted hallway.

 

Betty finds them a few moments later. “Bruce,” she says.

 

He takes her appearance in, briefly looking up then down, his eye caught by the rather large ring on her left hand. She’s wearing a green dress and high heels, looking much the same as she had the last time Bruce had seen her. “Hi.” It comes out in a croak, and he clears his throat. “Betty. Hi.”

 

She’s still standing a few feet away, as though she doesn’t want to get closer. “You—you look good.”

 

Bruce grimaces. “Thanks. You, too.”

 

Tony clears his throat.

 

“Uh, Betty, this is Tony Stark. Tony, this is Betty,” Bruce manages, falling back on social conventions.

 

“It’s a pleasure,” Tony says with his shark’s grin that’s more threat than charm.

 

“Um, you too.” She winces. “Me too. Sorry.”

 

Betty looks at Bruce again, refocusing, her expression a mixture of resignation and sadness and pleasure. “I’ve been following the news. I’m glad you’re okay.”

 

Bruce nods, managing to choke out, “Are you?”

 

Betty puts her right hand over her left, hiding the ring. “Oh. Yes. We’re—good. We’re happy. It’s okay.”

 

Bruce has no idea what to say to that, and they just stare at each other for a long time until she says, “I should go. I have a meeting I’m already late for. It was good to see you.”

 

“It was good to see you, too,” Bruce manages, and then they exchange what is possibly the most awkward hug in the history of the world before she leaves.

 

Bruce sags against the wall, covering his face with his hands. “Oh, God.”

 

Tony approaches slowly, putting a tentative hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “You okay?”

 

“She’s married,” Bruce says dully. “I had thought—I’d hoped—” He stops, because there are no words for what he’d thought or hoped. They belong to another person, another life—to the guy who had been alone, cut off from any real human connection, who’d had only his memories for company.

 

He’s not that guy anymore. The realization is just hitting home now.

 

“I’m sorry,” Tony offers.

 

Bruce manages a laugh that holds very little humor. “I’m not. It’s what I wanted for her, to move on with her life. It’s okay.”

 

“Okay,” Tony says, drawing the word out. “So what’s the problem?”

 

“No problem,” Bruce insists, and then adds, almost as an afterthought, “It’s just that so much has changed, sometimes I can’t wrap my head around it.”

 

There’s a long, pregnant pause, and Tony says, “So, now probably wouldn’t be a great time for a seduction attempt.”

 

Bruce stands up straight, feeling alarm and anticipation all at once. “What?”

 

“Pepper is going to kill me for spoiling the surprise, but we were hoping to seduce you tonight.” Tony glances at his phone. “Right now, actually. She’s probably waiting for us right now. Sorry. This is probably the wrong time.”

 

Bruce stares at him for a long moment, and then he starts laughing, just dry chuckles at first, and then louder, until he’s got tears in his eyes.

 

“Okay, not the response I’d hoped for from a mention of seduction,” Tony says, but there’s a hint of humor in his voice, as though he understands Bruce’s reaction.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “We’d probably better go up, then, if Pepper’s there waiting for us.”

 

“Should I call ahead and tell her the deal is off?” Tony asks, appearing uncharacteristically uncertain.

 

“No,” Bruce says. “No, I think I want to hear her proposal for myself.”

 

Pepper is, indeed, waiting for them when they reach the suite, wearing a black dress with white polka dots and red shoes, sitting in front of a table that holds half a dozen small plates. _Tapas_ , Bruce thinks, and remembers going to a restaurant a couple of months before with the two of them, when he’d mentioned how much he liked the small plates.

 

Trust Pepper to remember, and he feels a rush of fondness for them both.

 

Tony leans down to kiss her, pausing to whisper in her ear. Bruce suspects that Tony is passing along word of their run-in with Betty, and those suspicions are confirmed when Pepper gives him a sympathetic look. “Are you okay?” she asks as Tony takes a seat on her right.

 

“Surprisingly, yes,” Bruce replies, and then he leans in, unsurprised when Pepper puts a hand to his cheek, meeting his lips with hers, keeping him in place to linger over the kiss.

 

When Pepper pulls back, she gives Tony a dirty look. “You told him.”

 

“I thought we might need to postpone,” Tony replies unrepentantly. “After what happened.” He grins, looking like a kid who’s just been given a new toy. “Apparently Bruce is amenable.”

 

“I’d kind of like to know how this is going to work,” Bruce says mildly.

 

Tony shrugs. “The three of us, together, as a unit. Nothing changes, except we add a few recreational activities.” He leans towards Bruce. “We already work together. This is just moving it up to the next level.”

 

Bruce wants to say yes, but his natural caution wins out. “And when it blows up in our faces?”

 

“Such a pessimist,” Tony jokes. “But we won’t let it. We just won’t let it.”

 

Bruce lets out a breath. “Okay.”

 

“Okay?” Tony asks, and then he grabs the front of Bruce’s suit jacket, hauling him in close, his mouth warm and welcoming and clever, his free hand tangling in Bruce’s hair. Bruce relaxes into it, letting Tony take the lead, humming happily against Tony’s mouth, feeling as though he’s come home.

 

When they finally break off the kiss, Bruce glances over to find Pepper watching avidly. “You know, Tony, I’m rethinking our deal.”

 

Bruce glances at Tony, a little bemused. “What deal was that?”

 

Tony ignores him. “Oh, really? You decided you’d rather watch the first time around?”

 

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll do some participating,” Pepper says coolly, and then she stands up, unzipping her dress in one smooth motion and stepping out of her heels, leaving the dress pooled on the floor. “I just want to watch you unwrap him.”

 

Bruce’s mouth goes dry. “I should probably warn you guys that it’s been a while, and the last time I tried this, my heart rate got too high.”

 

“Your control is much better now,” Tony points out. “And let me guess, Betty?”

 

Bruce nods, tearing his eyes from Pepper in her lacy black underwear to look at Tony, who has shrugged out of his jacket and is unbuttoning his shirt. “Yeah,” he manages. “I just—haven’t tried since. It hasn’t been worth it.” He leaves unsaid that it’s worth it now.

 

“Feel free to take a break at any time,” Tony says, dropping his shirt on the floor, the arc reactor shining brightly in his chest. “That’s what’s so great about there being three of us.” He pauses. “And feel free to get naked, too.”

 

Bruce chuckles, and it’s easier to do this than it might have been a few months ago, since both of them had seen him naked after he’d been burned. He drapes his jacket over the back of a chair and pulls his tie loose.

 

Tony’s apparently not satisfied with his progress, because he approaches, finishing off the buttons, sliding his hands over Bruce’s bare skin to push his shirt off his shoulders.

 

Time seems to go a little funny after that—Bruce feels every touch, the heat of Tony’s bare skin on his, the hard length of Tony’s erection through his dress pants.

 

Pepper must get tired of waiting, because she slides up behind Bruce, and he can feel the scratch of the lace bra against his back, and the softness of her breasts.

 

He has to catch his breath then, and Tony shoves Bruce’s pants down and nudges him towards the bed before turning his attention to Pepper.

 

Bruce watches them, how they are together, Tony’s strong hands on Pepper’s hips as they kiss, and he can’t believe his good fortune, sharing this with them.

 

Tony suddenly lifts Pepper up, and she wraps her slim legs around Tony’s waist. After another minute, he drops Pepper onto the bed next to Bruce, and she rolls to straddle Bruce’s waist.

 

And then he’s lost in a sea of sensations—the scents of Pepper’s perfume and Tony’s cologne, Pepper’s smooth hands and Tony’s callused ones, the scratch of Tony’s beard against the sensitive skin of Bruce’s stomach and thighs, Pepper’s mouth on his, Tony’s lips against his neck.

 

He comes with Tony and Pepper’s hands on him, both of them at once, unable to hold back any longer. And then Pepper rides Tony until they both come, with Bruce a languid onlooker, reaching out to entwine his fingers with Tony’s.

 

Pepper sprawls back onto the bed on Tony’s other side, resting her chin on Tony’s chest. “You okay, Bruce?”

 

“I’m great,” he replies honestly. “Never better.”

 

Tony rolls his head to kiss Bruce lazily. “Good. You don’t have anywhere you have to be, do you?”

 

Bruce thinks of the afternoon sessions he’d planned to attend, and then he grins, wide and lazy. “I don’t have anywhere I’d rather be,” he admits. “You two are a terrible influence.”

 

Pepper smiles. “That’s Tony’s doing.”

 

“Always happy to be of service,” Tony replies. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be ready for round two.”

 

Bruce rolls to rest his forehead against Tony’s sweaty shoulder, throwing an arm over Tony’s waist, his hand landing on Pepper’s back. “I could stay here forever,” he admits quietly.

 

“Sounds good to me,” Pepper murmurs, sounding a little sleepy.

 

Tony just frees an arm to wrap around Bruce, holding him tightly.

 

And Bruce is perfect right where he is. It’s the best feeling in the world.


End file.
